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' LIVES AND PORTRAITS 



^PRESIDENTS 



OP TnK 



UNITED STATES, 

Jfr0m liasl]tiigt0n k (imnt. 



THE BIOGRAPHIE S^^J^:^^'^'- 

BY EVERT A. DUYCKINCK, 

Author of the ^^ History of the War for the Union,'" " Cyclopedia of American Literature," etc. 



THE PORTRAITS, 

BY ALONZO CHAPPEL, 

From Original Likenesses obtained from the most Authentic Sources. 

TO WHICH IS ADDED 

THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES; WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS; 

FAC-SIillLE OP THE ORIGINAL DOCUJIENT OP THE DECLARATION OF 

INDEPENDENCE AND NAMES OF THE SIGNERS, ETC.. ETC. 



aT, 



■ NEW YORK: d 
• JOHNSON, WILSON AND COMPANY, 
27 BEEKMAN STREET. 






Entered according to Act of Concrcss, in the year 1873, liy 

JOHNSON, WILSON AND COMPANY, 

lu the Offlco of tbc Librarian of Congress, nt Washington, D. C. 



CONTENTS. 



« I ■ I > 



• FAOE 

L — GEORGE WASHINGTON 7 

II. —JOHN ADAMS S5 

III. — TUOMAS JEFFERSON 45 

IV. —JAMES MADISON 63 

V. — J A5IE3 MONROE "i 1 

VI. —JOHN QUINCY ADAMS SI 

YII. —ANDREW JACKSON «2 

VIII. —MARTIN VAN BUREN 120 

IX —WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON 130 

X. —JOHN TYLER 1^<^ 

XL —JAMES KNOX POLK l-»'7 

XII. — ZACHARY TAYLOR 163 

XIII. —MILLARD FILLMORE 169 

XIV. — FRANKUN PIERCE "5 

XV. —JAMES BUCHANAN 182 

XVL —ABRAHAM LINCOLN 191 

XVIL — ANDREW JOHNSON 203 

XVIII.— ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT 209 



PREFACE. 



■ The narratives of the Lives of the Presidents of the United States will 
ever afford an interesting and profitable subject of study ; and this not merely 
from their elevated position ranking them as rulers with contemporaiy kings, 
emperors, and others in chief authority ; but, as representatives of a distinct and 
peculiar social and political organization. The hereditary sovereigns of Europe, 
succeeding one another by a fixed and absolute decree ; educated for their posi- 
tion and following, for the most part, through life a uniform routine of etiquette 
and State policy, are spoken of in relation to families and dynasties ; nor do they 
always represent the nationality of the countries over which they rule. They 
may be, as in the case of the Hanover line in England, taken fi'om a foreign 
country, or as in Greece of the present day, chosen from other countries in obedi- 
ence to a real or supposed political necessity of European State craft. They may 
be weak or able, virtuous or vicious, according to their cajiacity or individual 
tendencies, vdthout the nation over which they rule being particularly honored 
in the one case or held responsible in the other. Not so in the United States. 
Here the Chief Magistrate, as it is oui* glory to call the presiding officer at the 
head of our system of government, being chosen by the people at short intervals, 
the nation becomes directly responsible for his intelligence and virtue. The pre- 
judices of party, the accidents of political intrigue, occasional deference to what 
is termed expediency, may, indeed, direct the election so that the successful candi- 
date may fall short, as a representative man, of the character of the people in its 
highest and best development. It is by no means to be expected that the best 
adapted or qualified man will be chosen every four years to the Presidency. In 
all human affairs it frequently happens that the right man is not in the right 
place. But generally speaking, making due allowance for inevitable exceptions 
the country may be rightfully judged by the character of the man deliberately 
chosen by the people to the post of highest authority. If, for instance, an avowed 



iv! PREFACE. 



iiifiJel, or n corrupt man in morals, or one dishonest, wanting integrity in the 
every-day aft'airs of life, were to be elected, the nation would be directly humili- 
ated. It would be held up to reproach, and deservedly so, throughout Christen- 
dom. If, on the contrary, the list of Presidents shall continue to show men of 
sound raond character and a high average of intellect, the country 'will be honored 
in its representatives. 

How much, for instance, at the start was done for us as a people by the choice 
of Washington as our. great leader, " First in War, First in Peace, and First in the 
hearts of his countrymen." The nation, after more than half a century since his 
death, may be said, in a measure, to be living on his virtues.. He, more than any 
other hero, " without fear or reproach," by the purity of his life and the devotion 
of his whole nature to public affairs, raised the land at once to a " respectable " 
position, as he was accustomed modestly to say, among the nations of the world. 
Ilis example has reacted upon the people whom he was called to represent, and 
doubtless on innumerable occasions has brightened the flame of patriotism and 
public ^■iI•tue. Every statesman, and especially every President, must feel himself 
called upon to follow and privileged in foUoAving in his footsteps. 

Nor does the example of Washington stand alone in oui' review of the Presi- 
dents. Tlie Adamses occupy a lofty position in our national history, in theii- pri- 
vate vii'tues, their devoted patriotism, and independence of character. In Jeffer- 
son the nation had not only a ruler of consiimmate ability, but a student and 
philosopher, and a controlling mind among the gieat men of his centurj'. The 
great name of Madison is identified with the foundation of our liberties in the 
origin and adoption of the Constitution. The strength and manliness of Jackson, 
equally illustrated in military and political life, have left their example to invigor- 
ate the national policy of our own times. The fame of Lincoln, consecrated by 
mart}Tdom, will be transmitted to posterity with an enduring lesson of public 
virtues, patriotic devotion, heartfelt love of liberty and magnanimity in the exer- 
cise of power. Others on the brief list have their high and enduring claims to 
respect. They have not been all of equal eminence, but this could hardly be ex- 
pected. What was to be demanded and what has l)een rendei-ed was a tair shai-e 
of intelligence mth a fair share of virtue. 

In the ensuing pages the lives of the eighteen incumbents who, up to this time 
have held the Presidency, are narrated. As a simple record of biogiaphy, the 
story is interesting in its variety of personal details. As an incentive to patriot- 
ism in a period more than ever since the days of Washington requiring the devo- 
tion of the citizen, we trust that it is not ^vithout its useful lesson. 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



"Washington iKViNa commences liis 
life of George Washino-ton witli a 
genealogical chapter ti-acing the anti- 
quity of liis family to tlie eleventli cen- 
tury. Though the transcendent merit 
of his hero little needs this blazonry, 
which, as he himself intimated on one 
occasion, his occupation in active busi- 
ness had given him no time to fen-et 
•out, yet it is not to be denied that it is 
quite in harmony with the character of 
Washington, that his family should be 
traced through an ancient and honor- 
able descent. He is placed in history 
as a connecting link between too great 
eras of civilization, and it is important 
to know that the goodly tree of his fair 
fame has its roots in the one, while it 
extends its widely spread, still growing 
branches into the other. He certainly 
would be less a representative man 
were his origin unkno^vn, or had he 
just arrived, a chance comer, to do his 
work of revolutionizing a nation. On 
the contrary, he was especially fitted 
for his great employment by the place 
of his birth, leaning fondly on the 
parent country as the Old Dominion, the 
estates and institutions by which he 
was surrounded, and the recollections 
of an elder time which these circum- 
stances implied. In supplying these 
traditions, Mr. Irving canies us back to 



the picturesque era of the early days of 
the Plantagenets, when the DeWessyng. 
tons did manorial service in the battle 
and the chase, to the military Bishop 
of Durham. Following these spirited 
scenes thi-ough the foiuieenth centm"y 
to the fifteenth, we have a glimpse 
of John de Wessyngton, a stout, contro- 
versial abbot attached to the cathedi'al. 
After him, we are called upon to trace 
the family in the various parts of Eng- 
land, and pai'ticularly in its branch of 
Washingtons — for so the spelling of the 
name had now become determined — at 
Sulgrave, in Northamptonshire. They 
were loyalists in the CromwelKan era, 
when Sir Henry gained renown by his 
defence of Worcester. While this event 
was quite recent, two brothers of the 
race, John and Lawrence, emigrated to 
Virginia in 1G57, and established them- 
selves as planters, in Westmoreland 
county, bordering on the Potomac and 
Rappahannock, in the midst of a dis- 
trict destined to produce many eminent 
men for the service of a State then 
undreamt of. One of these brothers, 
John, a colonel in the Virginia service, 
was the grandfather of Augustine, 
who married Maiy Ball, the belle of 
the county, and became the jiarent of 
George Washington. The family home 
was on Bridges' Creek, near the banks 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



of the Potomac, wliere, the oldest of six 
children l>y this second marriage of his 
father, the illnstrious subject of our 
sketch was horn on the twenty-second 
of Fol)niary, \'i?>2. 

Au'T'ustine Washinfcton was the o\ni- 
or of several estates in this region of 
the two rivers, to one of which, on the 
Rappahannock, in Stafford Coniity, he 
removed shortly after his son's hirth, 
and there the boy received his first im- 
pressions. He was not destined to lx> 
much indebted to schools or school-mas- 
ters. ITis father, indeed, was not in- 
sensible to the advan.tages of education, 
since, according to the custom of those 
days with wealthy plantei-s, he had 
sent LaAVi-ence, his oldest son by his 
previous marriage, to be educated in 
England ; an opportunity which was not 
given him in the case of George ; for 
before the boy was of an age to leave 
home on such a journey, the fiither was 
suddenly taken out of the world by an 
attack of gout. This event happened 
in April, 1743, when George was left to 
the guardianship of his mother. The 
honest merits of Mar}^, " the mother of 
"Washincrton," have often been matters 
of comment. All that is preserved of 
this lady, who survived her husband 
forty-six years, and of course lived to 
■witness the matured triumphs of her 
son — he was seated in the Presidential 
chair when she died — ^bears witness to 
her good sense and simplicity, the 
plainness and sincerity of her house- 
hold virtues. 

The domestic instruction of Wash- 
ington was of the best and purest. He 
luul ])een early indoctrinated in the 
nidimjmts of learning, in tlio "field 



school," by a village pedagogue, named 
Hobby, one of his fatlicr's tenants, who 
joined to his afflictive calling the more 
melancholy profession of sexton — a 
shabby meral)er of the race of instruc- 
tors, Avho in his old age ke])t up the 
association by getting pati'iotically fud- 
dled on his puj)ils' birth-days. The 
l)oy could have learnt little there which 
was not better taught at home. Indeed 
we find his motlier inculcating the best 
precepts. In addition to the Scriptures 
and the lessons of the Church, which 
always form the most im])ortant part 
of such a child's education, she had a 
book of excellent wisdom, as the 
event proved, especially suitable for the 
guidance of her son's future life, in 
Sir Matthew Hale's "Contemplations, 
Moral and Divine " — a book written by 
one who had attained high public dis- 
tinction, and who tells the secret of his 
worth and success. The very volume 
out of which Washington was thus 
taught by his mother is preserved at 
Mount Vernon. He had, however, some 
limited school instruction with a INIr. 
Williams, whom he attended from his 
half brother, Augustine's, home, in West- 
moreland, and from whom he learnt a 
knowledge of accounts, in which he was 
always skilful. His cijihering book, 
neatly written out, may be seen among 
other relics of his early years, in the 
public archives at Washington. An- 
other juvenile note-book of this time, 
penned when he was thirteen, contains 
not only forius of business, as bonds, 
leases, and the like, but copies of verses 
and " Rules of Behavior in Company 
and Conversation," full of homely prac- 
tical wisdom of the Benjamin Franklin 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



pattern. Some lines on "True Happi- 
ness " recite, among otlier benefits, 
tliose of 

" A merry night without much drinking, 
A happy thought without much thinliing ; 
Each night by quick sleep made short, 
A will to be but what thou art." 



The " Rules," one hundred and ten 
in number, are plain, sensible maxims, 
ccrmmonplace enough, some of them, 
but not the less valuable ; minor moral- 
ities which add to the comfort as well 
as the greatness of life, form the gentle- 
man, and assist the Christian. Wash- 
ington, who was ever sedulously obser- 
vant of all matters of good conduct 
and high principle, may well be studied 
in this elementary exercise of his boy- 
ish days. He had early set his mind 
in these precepts upon kindness, for- 
bearance, self-denial, probity, the love 
of justice. The youth had also par- 
ticular instructions from Mr. Williams 
in geometry, trigonometry, and survey- 
ing, in which he became an adept, -wi'it- 
ing out his examples in the neatest 
and most careful manner. This was a 
branch of insti'uction more important 
to him than Latin and Greek, of which 
he was taught nothing, and one that he 
turned to account throuo;h life. All 
the school insti'uction which Washins;- 
ton received was thus completed before 
he was sixteen. 

Nor let it be supposed that these 
sober mathematical calculations con- 
stituted all the dreams of the boy. 
He had other \'lsions of a softer charac- 
ter in the charms of a certain lowland 
beauty, to whose memory some love-sick 
rhj-mes are left in his youthful note- 



books. It is worth mentioning, this 
tender susceptibility of one who was 
all tenderness within, while his grave 
public duties so long conscientiously re- 
quired him to present an ii'on front to 
the world. 

He had, however, to look to some 
practical work in the scant condition 
of his fortunes, and we find him early 
bent upon it. While he was yet at 
school, a proposition was entertained 
by himself and a portion of his family, 
which, if it had been carried out, might 
have seiiously affected the destinies of 
America. His brother, Lawrence, four- 
teen years his senior, had served a few 
years before with the West India fleet 
of Admiral Vernon, in the land force at 
the siege of Carthagena, and in honor 
of his commander, gave the name 
Mount Vernon to the estate on the 
Potomac which he inherited from his 
father. He was now man-ied to the 
daughter of a neighboring gentleman, 
William Fairfax, and in the enjoyment 
of his home had given up military life; 
but he thoucrht well of the foreiorn 
service, and prociu'ed a midshipman's 
warrant for his brother George, who, 
full of active vigor, with a boyish taste 
for war, eagerly desired the adventui'e. 
Little more is known of the affair, 
beyond his mother's earnest final inter- 
position—she had given her consent in 
the first instance — by which his 
majesty's navy lost an excellent re- 
cruit, and his majesty's dominions haK 
a continent, while the world gained a 
nation. 

On leaving school, young Washing- 
ton appears to have taken up his resi- 
dence with his brother at Moimt 



10 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



Vernon, where he was introduced to 
new social influences of a liberal 
character in the family society of the 
Fairfaxes. LaAVTence, as we liave seen, 
was mamed to a daughter of William 
Fau-fax, a gentleman of much experience 
and adventure about the world, who 
resided at his neighboring seat "Bel- 
voir," on the Potomac, and superin- 
tended, as agent, the large landed 
operations of his cousin. Lord Fairfax. 
These comprehended a huge territor}-, 
embracing the Northern Neck, and 
stretchintj over the mountains into 
what was then something of a frontier 
region, the valley of the Shenandoah. 
In this more remote spot resided the 
owner himself at Greenway Com-t, 
keeping up a rude state, and gratifying 
his love of the chase, for he had 
brought Avith him from Old England 
the tastes of a genuine fox-hunter. 
"Washington, though too young to 
appreciate the eccentric nobleman's 
varied experience, was ready to follow 
him in the hunt, and there was another 
source of sj-mpathy in the practical 
management of his vast territory. Sur- 
veys were to be made to keep posses- 
sion of the lands, and bring them into 
the market ; and who so well adapted 
for this service as the youth who had 
made the science an oliject of special 
study 1 We consequently find him re- 
gularly retained in this service. His 
journal, at the age of sixteen, remains 
to tell us of the duties and adventm-es 
of the journey, as he traversed the out- 
Ipng rough ways and passages of the 
South Branch of the Potomac. It is a 
short record of camp incidents and the 
progress of his surveys for a month in 



the ■wilderness, in the spring of 1748; 
the j)rclude, iu its introduction to 
Indians and the exposui'cs of camp life, 
to many rougher scenes of military 
service, stretching westward from the 



reirion. 



Three years were passed in expe- 
ditions of this nature, the young sur- 
veyor making his home in his intervals 
of duty mostly at ]\Ioimt Vernon. The 
health of his brother, the owner of this 
place, to whom he was much attached, 
was now failing with consumption, and 
George accompanied him in one of his 
toiu's for health in the autumn of 17. '51 
to Barbadoes. As usual, he kept a 
journal of his observations — he Avas 
always diligent and exact in these 
records from a boy, so that of no one 
so illustrious in history have Ave a 
more perfect picture through life — 
which tells us of the eveiy-day living 
and hospitalities of the place, Avith a 
shrcAvd glance at its agricultiu-al re- 
sources and the conduct of its gover- 
nor. A fcAV lines cover nearly a month 
of the visit ; they record an attack of 
the smallpox, of Avhich his countenance 
always bore some faint traces. Lea\'- 
ing his brother, partially recruited, to 
pm-sue his Avay to Bermuda, George re- 
turned in February to Virginia. The 
health of LaAvrence, however, continued 
to decline, and in the ensuing supjmer 
he died at Mount Vernon. The estate 
Avas left to a daughter, Avho, dying in 
infancy, the property passed, according 
to the terms of the Avill, into the pos- 
session of George, Avho thus became the 
OAATier of his memorable home. 

Previous to this time, rumors 
of imminent French and Indian ag- 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



11 



gressions on the frontier began to 
engage the attention of the colony, and 
preparations were making to resist the 
threatened attack. The province was 
divided into districts for enlistment 
and organization of the militia, over 
one of which Washington was placed, 
with the rank of major, in 1751, when 
he was but nineteen — a mark of con- 
fidence sustained by his youthful 
studies and experience, but in which 
his family influence, doubtless, had its 
full share. We hear of his attention 
to military exercises at Mount Vernon, 
and of some special hints and instruc- 
tions from one Adjutant Ware, a 
Virginian, and a Dutchman, Jacob Van 
Braam, who gave him lessons in fenc- 
ing. Both of these worthies had been 
the military companions of Lawrence 
Washington in the West Indies. 

In 1753, the year following his 
brother's death, the aftaii's on the fron- 
tier becoming pressing. Governor Din- 
widdie stood in need of a resolute 
agent, to bear a message to the French 
commander on the Ohio, remonstratinir 
against the advancing occupation of the 
tenitory. It was a hazardous service 
crossing a rough, intervening mlder- 
ness, occupied by unfriendly Indians, 
and it was a high compliment to Wash- 
ington to select him for the duty. 
Amply provided with instructions, he 
left Williamsbui-g on the mission on 
the last day of October, and, by the 
middle of November, reached the ex- 
treme frontier settlement at Will's 
Creek. Thence, with his little party 
of eight, ho piu'sued his way to the 
fork of the Ohio, wliere, mth a military 
eye, he noted the ad vantageous position 



subsequently selected as the site of 
Fort Du Quesne, and now the flourish- 
ing city of Pittsburg. Pie then held a 
council of the Indians at Logsto^vn, 
and procured guides to the station of 
the French commandant, a hundred 
and twenty miles distant, in the 
vicinity of Lake Erie, which he reached 
on the 11th of December. An inter- 
view having been obtained, the mes- 
sage delivered and an answer received, 
the most hazardous part of the expe- 
dition yet lay before the party in their 
retm'n home. They were exj^osed to 
frozen streams, the winter inclemencies, 
the perils of the wilderness and Indian 
hostilities, when Indian hostilities were 
most cruel. To hasten his homeward 
jom-ney, Washington separated from 
the rest, with a single companion. His 
life was more than once in danger on 
the way, first from the bullet of an 
Indian, and during a night of extra- 
ordinaiy seventy, in crossing the violent 
Allegany river on a raft beset with ice. 
Escaping these disasters, he reached 
Williamsburg on the IGth January, 
and gave the interesting joui-nal now 
included in his writings as the report 
of his proceedings. It was at once 
published by the Governor, and was 
speedily reprinted in Loudon. 

The observations of Washington, and 
the reply which he brought, confirmed 
the growing impressions of the designs 
of the French, and militaiy prepara- 
tions were kept up with spiiit. A 
Virginia regiment of three hundred 
was raised for frontier service, and 
Washington was appointed its Lieu- 
tenant-Colonel. Advancing with a 
portion of the force of which he had 



12 



GEORGK WASniXOTON. 



command, ho learnt that the Fi'onch 
were in tho field, and had commenced 
hostilities. Watchful of their move- 
ments, he fell in with a ]iarty under 
Jumonville, in the neighl)orh()od of the 
Great Meadows, which he i)ut to lliglit 
■with the death of their leader. His 
o^Ti superior oflieer having died on 
the niareh, tho enlire eoinniand fell 
upon Washington, who was also joined 
by some additional troops IVoiu South 
Carolina and New York. With these 
ho was on his way to attack Fort 
Du Quesne, when word was hronght of 
a large su])erior force of French and 
Indians coming against him. This 
intelligence led him, in his xmprepared 
state, to reti'ace his steps to Fort Neces- 
sity, at the Gre^it Meadows, where he 
received the attack. The fort was gal- 
lantly defended Loth within and Avith- 
out, Washington commanding in fi'ont, 
and it Avas not until serious loss had 
been inflicted on the assailants that it 
surrendered to superior nmubers. In 
the caiiitulation the garrison was 
alloweil to return home M'ith the honors 
of war. A second time the Legislature 
of Virginia thanked her retiu'ning 
officer. 

The militaiy career of Washington 
was now for a time iriteiTuiited by a 
question of etiquette. An order was 
issued in favor of the officers holding 
tho king's commission outranldng the 
provincial appointments. Washington, 
who knew the Avorth of his country- 
men, and the respect due himself, would 
not submit to this injustice, and the 
estate of Mount Vernon now requiring 
his attention, he withdrew from the 
jirmy to its rural occupations. He was 



not, however, suffered to remain there 
long in inactivity. The arrival of 
General Braddock, Avith his forces, in 
tho river, calh'd him into actiim at tho 
summons of that oHici-r, Avho was at- 
tracted l>y his exjK'rience and accom- 
plishments. Washington, anxious to 
serve his countiy, readily accepted an 
a]i]iointment as one of tho Genei'al's 
military family, the question of rank 
being thus dispensed with. lie joined 
the anny on its onward march at Win- 
chester, and proceeded Avith it, though 
he had been taken ill with a rairincr 
fever, to the Great Crossing of the 
Youghiogany. Here he was compelled 
to remain Avith the rear of the anny, by 
the positive injunctions of the General, 
from Avhom he exacted his " Avord of 
honor " that he " should l)e brought up 
before he reached the French fort." 
This he accomplished, though he was 
too ill to make the journey on horse- 
back, arriving at the mouth of the 
Youghiogany, in the immediate vicin- 
ity of the fjital battle-field, the evening 
before the entrajrement. In the CA'enta 
of that memorable ninth of July, IT.'iS, 
he Avas destined to bear a cons])icuou3 
part. From tho beginning, he had been 
a pradent counsellor of the General on 
the march, and it Avas by his advice 
that some of its urgent difficulties had 
been overcome. He adAnsed pack- 
horses instead of baggage-Avagons, and 
a rii\nd advance Avith an unencumbered 
poi-tiou of the force before the enemy 
at Fort Du Quesne could gain strength ; 
but Braddock, a brave, conliilent officer 
of the Em-oj)ean school, resolutely ad- 
dicted to system, Avas uuAnlling or 
unable fiUly to cimy out the sugges- 



GEORGE WASnrNGTOX. 



13 



tions. Ilafl Washington hold the com- 
mand, it is l)ut little to say that he 
would not have Lcen cauglit in an 
ambuscade. It was his last advice, on 
arriving at the scene on the eve of the 
battle, that the Virginia Hangers should 
be employed as a scouting party, rather 
than the regular troops in the advance. 
The proposition was rejected The 
next day, though still feeble from his 
illness, Washinccton mounted his horse 
and took his station as aid to the Gene- 
ral It was a brilliant display, as the 
well-appointed army passed under the 
eye of its martinet commander on its 
way from the encampment, crossing 
and recrossing the Monongahela to- 
wards Fort Du Quesne — and the sol- 
dierly eye of Washington is said to 
have kindled at the sight. The march 
had continued from sum-ise till about 
two o'clock in the afternoon, when, as 
the advanced column was ascending a 
rising ground covered with trees, a fire 
was opened upon it from two concealed 
ravines on either side. Then was felt 
the want of American experience in 
fitrhtincT with the Indian. Braddock 

O O 

in vain sent forward his men. They 
would not, or could not, fight against a 
hidden foe, while they themselves were 
presented in open view to the marks- 
men. Washington recommended the 
Virginia example of seeking protection 
from the trees, but the General would 
not even then abandon his European 
tactics. The regulars stood in squads 
shooting their own companions before 
them. The result was an ovenvhelm- 
ing defeat, astounding when the rela- 
tive forces and equipment of the two 
parties is considered, Braddock, who, 



amidst all his faults, did not lack cour- 
a<re, directed his men while five horses 
were killed under him. Washington 
was also in tlie thickest of the danger, 
losinjr two horses, while his clothes were 
pierced by four bullets. IMany years 
aftenvards, when he visited the region 
on a peaceful mission, an old Indian 
came to see him as a wonder. He had, 
he said, levelled his rifle so often at him 
without effect, that he became per- 
suaded he was imder the special protec- 
tion of the Great Spuit, and gave up 
the attempt. Braddock at length fell 
in the centre of the field fatally 
wounded. Nothing now remained but 
flight. But four ofiicers out of eighty- 
six were left alive and unwonnddL 
Wasllini'ton's fii'st care was for the 
wounded General ; his next employment, 
to ride to the reserve camp of Dunbar, 
forty miles, for aid and supplies. Re- 
turning with the requisite assistance, 
he met the wounded Braddock on the 
retreat. Painfully borne along the 
road, he survived the engagement 
several days, and reached the Great 
Meadows to die and be buried there 
by the broken remnant of his army. 
Washington read the funeral service, 
the chaplain being disabled by a 
wound. Writing to his brother, he 
attrilmted his own protection, " beyond 
all human prol)ability or expectation," 
to the " all-powerful dispensations of 
Providence." The natural and pious 
sentiment was echoed, shortly after, 
from the pulpit of the excellent Samuel 
Davies, in Hanover County, Vir- 
ginia. " I may point," said he, in 
illustration of his patriotic puipose of 
encouraging new recruits for the ser- 



14 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



vico, in words since that time often 
pn^nouRoeil pmphotio, "to tliat lu'rolo 
youth, Cohnu'l Wasliington, whom I 
cannot Init hope Providenco has liither- 
to prosorvod in so signal a mannoi" for 
some important service to* his ooiin- 
try." 

One lesson of this campaign was 
tlet'i>ly impressed upon the mind of 
"Washington, the disohedleuoe, disorder 
and cowardice of the regular troops 
compai-ed -with the heroic fate of the 
Virginia companies. lie expresses 
himself in the stron£rest terms of this 
" d;u?tardly behavior of the regular 
troops, so called" in his correspondence 
at the time, and the experience, doubt- 
less, remained with him in after days 
of doubt and ditHculty when the con- 
viction was needed to sustain him 
against hostile hosts. 

The public attention of the province 
was now turned to Washington, as the 
best defender of the soil. His volun- 
tary service had expired, but he was 
etill engaged as adjutant, in directing 
the levies from his residence at Mount 
Venion, whence the Legislature soon 
called him to the chief command of the 
Vii-ginia forces. lie stipulated for 
thorough activity and discipline in the 
whole service, and accepted the office. 
The defence of the country, exjuised to 
the fierce severities of savage wai-fiu-e, 
was in his hands. lie set the posts in 
order, organized forces, rallied recraits, 
and appealed earnestly to the Assem- 
bly for vigorous means of relief. It 
was again a lesson for his after life 
when a greater foe was to be pressing 
our more extended frontiers under his 
care, and the reluctance or weakness of 



the Virginia Lt^gislaturo was to bo 
ri'jiroduced, in an exaggerated fi>nn, in 
the imbecility of Congress. We shall 
thus behold Washington, ever}"\vhere 
the patient chilil of experience, unwea- 
riedly conning his lesson, learning, 
from actual life, the statesman's know- 
ledge of man and aftaii-s. He was 
sent into this schoc)! of the world early, 
for he was yet but twenty-three, when 
this guardianshij) of the State was 
placed upon his shoulders. 

We find him again jealous of autho- 
rity in the interests of the service. A 
certain Ca])tain Dagwi>rth}', in a smjill 
command at Fort Cumberland, refused 
obedience to ordei-s, asserting his privi- 
lege as a royal oificer of the late cmu- 
paign, and the question was idtimately 
referred to General Shirley, the com- 
mander-in-chief at Boston. Thither 
Washington himself carried his apj)eal, 
making his journey on luirseT)ack in 
the midst of muter, and had his view 
of his superior authority confii'meiL 
A bit of romance also has been con- 
nected Avith this tour on pu\)lie busi- 
ness. At New Yttrk he was entertain- 
ed by a friend in Beverley llobinson, 
of a Virginia family, who had married 
one of the heiresses of the wealthy 
lando^vner of the II\ulson, Adolphus 
Philipse, the pu)priett)r of the manor 
of that name. Mrs. Kobinson had a 
sister equally wealthy with hei-self, 
young and beautiful, of whom it was 
said Washington, Avho was by no 
means insensible to female charms, and 
who had also a prudent regaid for 
fortune, became enamored. Indeed, 
his admiration, says Mi-. Irving, is " un 
historical fact." The stoiy is some- 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



15 



times added, that lie sought her hand 
and was rejected, but this the excellent 
authority just cited discredits as im- 
probable. Urgent public aifairs called 
the gallant officer to new struggles in 
the wilderness, and the lucky prize 
passed into the arms of a brother 
officer of Braddock's staff. 

Returning immediately to Virginia, 
Colonel "Washington continued his 
employment in active military duties, 
struggling not less with the inefficient 
Assembly at home, whom he tried to 
arouse, than with the enemy abroad. 
It was a tiying service, in which the 
commander, spite of every hardship 
which he freely encountered, was sure 
to meet the reproach of the suffering 
public. The disinterested conduct of 
Washington proved no exception to 
the rule. He even experienced the in- 
gratitude of harsh newspaper comments, 
and thousjht for the moment of resij?- 
nation ; but his friends, the noblest 
spirits in the colony, reassured him of 
their confidence, and he steadily went 
on. The arrival of Lord Loudoun, so 
pleasantly satirized by Franklin in his 
Autobiogi-aphy, as commander-in-chief 
of his majesty's forces, seemed to offer 
some opportunity for more active ope- 
rations, and Washington di'ew up a 
memorial of the affairs he had in 
charge for his instruction, and met him 
in conference at Philadelphia. Little, 
however, resulted from these negotia- 
tions for the relief of Virginia, and 
Washington, exhausted by his labors, 
was compelled to seek retirement at 
Mount Vernon, where he lay for some 
time prostrated by an atf,ack of fever. 

In the next spring, of 1758, he was 



enabled to resume his command. The 
Virginia troops took the field, joined 
to the forces of the British general, 
Forbes, and the year, after various dis- 
astrous movements, which miijht have 
been better directed had the counsels 
of Washington prevailed, was signal- 
ized by the capture of Fort Du Quesne. 
Washington, with his Virginians, tra- 
versed the ground whitened with the 
bones of his former comrades in Brad- 
dock's expedition, and ■svith his entry 
of the fort closed the French dominions 
on the Ohio, The war had taken 
another direction on the Canadian 
frontier in New York, and Virginia 
was left in repose. 

Shortly after this event, in January, 
1759, Washington was married to IVIrs, 
Martha Custis, of the White House, 
county of New Kent. This lady, born in 
the same year with himself, and conse- 
quently in the full bloom of youthful 
womanhood, at twenty-seven, was the 
widow of a wealthy landed proprietor 
whose death had occui'red three years 
before. Her maiden name was Dan- 
dridge, and she was of Welsh descent. 
The pradence and gravity of her dis- 
position eminently fitted her to be the 
wife of Washington. She was her 
husband's sole executrix, and managed 
the complicated affair's of the estates 
which he had left, involving the raising 
of crops and sale of them in Europe, 
with ability. Her personal charms, 
too, in these days of her widowhood, 
are highly spoken of. The well-known 
portrait by Woolaston, painted at this 
period, presents a neat, animated figm'e, 
with regular features, dark chestnut 
hair, and hazel eyes, in a dress which, 



16 



GBORQE WASniNQTON. 



changed often iu tbo inten'iil, tbe 
whirligig of fashion has restored to the 
year in which we write, 1800. The 
story of the eonrtship is too character- 
ietic to be omitted. The first eight of 
the hidy, at least in lier widowhood, 
by the gallant Colonel, was on one of 
his military jourmyiiigs diu'ing tin; last 
canij)aign, just alluded to, of the old 
Fivneh war. lie was B])eediug to the 
Council at Williamslmrg, on a special 
message, to stir up aiil for the camp, 
when, ci'ossing tlie ferry over the Pam- 
uukey, a branch of York llixer, he was 
waylaid hy one of the residents of the 
region, who coraj)elled him, by the 
inexorable laws of old Virginia hospi- 
tality, to stoji lor dinner at his man- 
sion. The energetic officer, intent on 
despatch, was reluctant to yield a 
moment from his all'airs of sUite, but 
there was no esca]ie of such a guest 
from such a host. Within, he found 
Mrs. Custis, whose attractions recon- 
ciled oven Washington to delay. He 
not only stayed to dine, but he ])assed 
the night, a charmed guest, with his 
friendly entertainer. The lady's resi- 
dence, fortunatt'ly, was iu the neighbor- 
hood of AVilliamsburg, and a soldier's 
life rctpiiring a j)rom])t disposition of 
his opportunities, the Colonel, mindful, 
perhaps, of the loss of ]\Iiss Phil ipse 
imder similar circiuustances, pressed 
his suit with vigor, and secured the 
lady at once iu the midst of her suit- 
ors, lie corresponded with her con- 
stantly during the remainder of the 
campaign, and iu the month of Jan- 
uar}', IT/JO, the wedding took place 
with great 6clat, at the bride's estate 
at the White House. The honeymoon 



was the inauguration of a new and 
pacific era of Washington's hitherto 
troubled military life. 

Yet even this n'pose ])rov<'d the in- 
troduction to new j)iiblic duties. With 
a sense i>f the obligat)(ms befitting a 
Virginia gentU'Uian, Washingtcm had 
ollcrcd himself to the sufl'ragt's <.)f his 
fellow countrymen at AVinchester, and 
been elected a member of the House 
of Burgesses. Abt>ut the time of his 
marriage, lie took his seat, when an 
inciilcnt occurred which has been often 
narrated. The Speaker, l)y a vote of 
the House, having been dii'ccted to 
return thanks to him for his eminent 
military services, at once jieri'ormcd 
the duty -with warmth and eloipience. 
Washington rose to express his thanks, 
but, never voluble before the public 
became too embarrassed to utter a syl 
lable. "Sit do\\-n, Mr. AVashington," 
was the coxuteous relief of the gentle- 
man who had addressed him, " your 
modesty equals your valor, and that 
surpasses the power of any language I 
possess." He continued a member of 
the House, diligently attending to its 
business till he was called to the Avork 
of the Revolution, in this ^vay adding 
to his exi)criences in war, familiarity 
with the i^ractical duties of a legislator 
and statesman. He was constantly pre- 
sent at the debates, it l)eing " a maxim 
with him through life," as his biognv 
pher, Mr. Sj^arks, obsen'cs — and no one 
has traced his course more mimitely, or 
is better entitled to oiler the remark — 
" to execute punctually and thoroughly 
every charge which he undertt)ok. ' 

Duties like these from such a man 
wt;i-e a graceful addition to the j)lan- 



GEORGE WASHINGTON, 



17 



ter's life. After a shoit sojourn at his 
wife's estate, be carried her to the house 
at Mount Vernon, which now became 
a lioine. Two olilldren of his \v\fe, }>y 
her former maii'iage, a Ijoy and girl, 
six and four years old, accompanied 
her. " I ana now, I believe," wrote her 
husband, to a correspondent in Lon- 
don, " fixed at this seat witli an agree- 
able 2)artner fn* life, and I hope to find 
more happiness in retirement than I 
ever experienced amidst the wide and 
bustling world." 

The occupations and resources of his 
life at this period have been fondly 
detailed by his l^iographers from the 
numerous memoranda of his diaries, 
almanacs, and note-ljooks. The hum- 
blest proceedings of farm business and 
the daily management of liis affairs are 
uncovered before our eyes. "We may 
learn the cares and provision of negro 
labor on the plantation, and the need of 
watchfulness in the midst of abund- 
ance. " Would any one Ijelieve," says 
he in one of these records of 1768, 
" that with a hundred and one cows 
actually reported at a late enumeration 
of the cattle, I should still Ijc obliged 
to buy butter for my family?" The 
very items of his housekeeping and per- 
sonal apparel may be gathered from 
his orders to his London coiTespon- 
dents, for in the state of dependence in 
which the mother country then kept 
her colonies, it was necessary to procure 
a coat or a pair of shoes from London. 
Some of our finely dressed aristocratic 
aucestors must needs have gone in ill 
fitting garments. Certainly a fashion- 
able tailor of the present day would 
scarcely be able to supply an order, 



without great hazard to his reputation, 
from such a description as Washington 
sent of himself, as a man " six feet higli 
and proportionably made ; if anything 
rather slender for a person of tliat 
height." It was a convenient thing 
then to have a particular friend ^vith a 
foot of the same size as your own, as 
Washington had in Colonel Beiler, 
when he availed himself in liis direc- 
tions across the water of that gentle- 
man's last, only " a little wider over the 
instep." We may trace the parapher- 
nalia of the bride in these orders for Mi'S. 
Washington, in the year of their mar- 
riage — the " salmon-colored tabby," and 
the Binissels lace, and the very play- 
things for little Miss Martha — "a 
fashional>le dressed doll to cost a 
guinea," and another for i-ougher, week- 
day handling, to cost five shillings ; and 
there is the genteel attire for " Master 
Custis, eight years old," his " silver 
laced hat," " neat pumps," and " sil- 
ver shoe and knee buckles" — vanities 
moderated by the introduction of " a 
small Bible neatly bound in Turkey, 
and John Parlce Custis wrote in gilt 
letters on the inside of the cover," with 
a prayer book to match. Jlere, too, in 
the same familiar handwriting of Wash- 
ington, is an order for several busts for 
the decoration of the family mansion, 
now assuming proportions worthy the 
new alliance which had brought lands 
and money to its owner's fortunes — 
" one of Alexander the Great ; another 
of Julius Cajsar; another of Charles 
XIL, of Sweden, and a fourth, of the 
King of Pi-ussia." A good selection 
for a soldier "^vho had look(!d upon the 
realities of military life. We sliall by 



18 



GEORGE WASniXGTON. 



and by see that same King of Prussia, 
the great Freilcrick, sending a portrait 
of liinist'lf with the message, "From 
tlie oldest general in Europe to the 
greatest general in the world." 

The daily life of the gentleman plan- 
ter is all the while going on, the crops 
of wheat and tohacco getting in, which 
were to be embarked beneath his eye 
on the broad bosom of the Potomac 
on their voyage to England and the 
"West Indies. So well established was 
his repute as a producer, that a l)arrel 
of flour bearing his brand was ex- 
empted from inspection in the ports 
of the latter eountiy. Cordial hospi- 
tality was going on -within doors, and 
wholesome countiy sports without. 
He had hoimds for the fox hunt ; there 
were deer to be killed in his woods, 
abundant wild fowl on his meadows in 
the season and fisheries in the riv^n- at 
his feet : and that there mii^ht be no 
fjilling into rusticity, came the annual 
state visits, when he was accompanied 
by Mi-s. Washington, to the notalde 
picked society at the capitals, Williams- 
burg and Annajwlis. It was a hearty, 
generous life, fitted to breed manly 
thoughts .Ind good resolution against 
the coming time, when the share shall 
be again exchanged for the sword, and 
the humble argument of the vestry at 
the little church at Pohick, where 
good, ecdentric Parson Weems, incul- 
cated his moralities, for the louder con- 
troversy of national debate. In fine, 
look upon Washington at this or any 
other period of his life, we ever find 
him industrious, always useful ; his ac- 
tivity and influence radiating from the 
centre of domestic life, and his private 



virtue, to the largest interests of the 
world. 

Fifteen yeai"9 had been thus passed 
at ]\[ount Vernon, wlien tlic peace of 
in-ovincial life began to be rufllud ]>y a 
new agitation. France had formerly fur- 
nished the stirring theme of opposition 
and resistance when Anieiica poured 
out her Ijcst blood at the call of Biitish 
statesmen, and helped to restore the fall- 
ing greatness of England. That same 
Parliament "which had been so wonder- 
fully revived when America seconded 
the call of Chatham, Avas now to inflict 
&n insupportable wound upon her de- 
fenders. The seeds of the Revolution 
must be looked for in the previous war 
with France. There and tlien America 
became acquainted with her own pow- 
el's, and the strength and weakness of 
British soldiers and placemen. To no 
one had the lesson been better taujxht 
than to Washington. By no one was it 
studied -with more impartiality. There 
was no faction in his opposition. The 
traditions of his family, his friends, the 
provinces, were all in favoi* of allegi- 
ance to the British government. lie 
had nothing in his composition of the 
disorganizing mind of a mere political 
agitator, a breeder of discontent. The 
interests of his laige lauded estates, and 
a revenue dejiendent upon exports, 
bound him to the British nation. But 
there was one principle in his nature 
stronger in its influence than all these 
material ties — the love of justice; and 
when Patrick Henry rose in the House 
of Burgesses, with his eloquent assertion 
of the rights of the colony in the mat- 
ter of taxation, Washington was there 
in his seat to respond to the sentiment. 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



19 



To this memorable occasion, on tlie 
29tli May, 17G5, has been referred the 
birtli of that patriotic fervor in the 
mind of Washington, Avelcoming as it 
was developed a new order of things, 
which never rested till the liberties of 
the country were established on the 
firmest foundations of independence 
and civil order. " His correspondence," 
says Irving, writing of this incident, 
" hitherto had not turned on political 
or specidative themes ; being engrossed 
by either militaiy or agricultural mat- 
ters, and evincing little anticipation of 
the vortex of public duties into which 
he was about to be di-awn. All hia 
previous conduct and -writings show a 
loyal devotion to the crown, with a 
patriotic- attachment to his country. 
It is probable that, on the present occa- 
sion, that latent patriotism received its 
first electric shock." Be this as it may, 
he was certainly from the beginning an 
earnest supporter of the constitutional 
liberties of his countiy, and met every 
fresh aggression of Parliament as it 
arose, in the most resolute manner. 
He took part in the local Virginia xeso- 
lutions, and on the meeting of the first 
Congress, in Philadelphia, went up to 
that honored Ijody with Patrick Heniy 
and Edmund Pendleton. He was at 
this time a firm, unyielding maintainer 
of the rights in controversy, and ftdly 
prepared for any issue Avhich might 
grow out of them ; but he was no 
revolutionist — for it was not in the 
nature of his mind to consider a 
demand for justice a provocative to 
war. Again, in Virginia, after the ad- 
journment of Congress, in the important 
Convention at Richmond, he listens to 



the imj^etuous eloquence of Patrick 
Ilemy. It was this body which set 
on foot a popular military organization 
in the colony, and Washington, who 
had previously given his aid to the 
indejiendent companies, was a member 
of the Committee to report the plan. 
A few days later, he Avrites to his 
brother, John Augustine, who was 
employed in training a company, that 
he would "very cheerfally accept the 
honor of commanding it, if occasion 
require it to be di-awn out." 

The second Continental Congress, of 
which Washington was also a member, 
met at Philadelphia in May, 1775, its 
members gathering to the deliberations 
with throljbing hearts, the musketry 
of Lexington ringing in their ears. 
The overtures of war by the British 
troops in Massachusetts had gathered 
a little provincial army about Boston ; 
a national organization was a measure 
no longer of choice, but of necessity. 
A Commander-in-Chief was to be ap- 
pointed, and though the selection was 
not altogether free from local jealousies, 
the sujierior merit of Washington was 
seconded by the superior patriotism of 
the Congress, and on the fifteenth of 
June he was unanimously elected by 
ballot to the high position. His 
modesty in accepting the ofiice was as 
noticeable as his fitness for it. He 
was not the man to flinch from any 
duty, because it was hazardous ; but it 
is worth kno-wing, that we may form a 
due estimate of his character, that he 
felt to the quick the full force of the 
sacrifices of ease and happiness that he 
was making, and the new difficulties 
he was inevitably to encouriter. He 



20 



GRORGE WASHINGTON. 



was so impressed ■with the probabilities 
of failure, and so liltlo disposed to 
vaunt his own j^owers, that he begged 
gentlemen in the House to reiiioinl>er, 
" lest some iinlueky event should hap- 
pen \mfavoral)le to his i-ejnitation," 
tliiit he thought himself, "with the 
utmost sineerity, uueipial to the com- 
mand he was honored with." AVitli a 
manly spirit of i)atriotic independence, 
worthy the highest eulogy, he declared 
his intention to keep an exact account 
of his puldic expenses, and aceej)t 
nothing more for his services — a reso- 
lution whiih was faithfully kept to the 
letter. ^Vith these disinterested pre- 
liminaries, he proceeded to Cambridge, 
and took command of the army on the 
third of July. Uunkcr Hill had been 
foucjht, establishiuL' the valor of the 
native militia, and the leaguer of 
Boston was already formed, though 
with ina(l(>([uate forces. There was ex- 
cellent individual material in the men, 
but evei'}'thing ^va^ to be done for their 
organizatit)n and equipment. Above 
all, there was an absolute want of 
powder. It was imjiossible to make 
any serious attemjit u])on the British 
in Boston, but the iitmost heroism was 
shoAvn in cutting oif their resources and 
hemming them in. Ilundde as were 
these inellicient means in the present, 
the prospect of the future was darkened 
by the short enlistments of the army, 
which were made only for the year. 
Congress expecting in that time a 
favorable answer to their second 
Petition to the King. The new re- 
cruits came in slowly, and means were 
feebly suiiplicd, but "Washington, bent 
ou action, determined upon an attack. 



For this ])urpose, he took ])ossession of 
and fortiiied Dorchester Ileiffhts, and 
l)repared to assail the town. The 
Biitish Avere making an attcmi^t to dis- 
lodge him, which was deferred by a 
storm ; and General Howe, having 
already resolved to evacuate the city, a 
few days after, on the lYth of I\[arch, 
ingloriously sailed away with his troops 
to Halifa.x. The next day, AVashington 
entered the toAvn in triumph. Thus 
ended the first epoch of his Revolution- 
ary campaigns. There had been littlo 
opiwrtunity for brilliant action, but 
gi'cat dilhculties had been overcome 
with a more honorable persistence, and 
a substantial benefit liad been gained. 
The full extent of the seivices of Wa.sh- 
ingtou became known only to his ])os- 
terity, since it was absolutely necessary 
at the time to conceal the difliculties 
under which he labored ; but the 
country saw and felt enough to extol 
his fame and award him an hone-st 
meed of gi-atitude. A special vote of 
Congress gave expression to the senti- 
ment, and a gold medal, bearing the 
head of Washington, and on the revei-se 
the legend ILkst ihu^ pri mo fugal is, was 
ordered by that body to commemorate 
the event. 

"We must now follow the commander 
rai)itlly to another scene of ojteratious, 
remembering that any detailed notice, 
liowever brief, of "W^ashington's niili- 
tary ojierations during the war, Avould 
expand this biographical sketch into a 
historical volinne. New Yt)rk was evi- 
dently to be the next object of attack, 
and thither AVashington gathered his 
forces, and made every available means 
of defence on land. By the beginning 



GEORGE WASniJVGTON. 



21 



of July, Avhen the Declaration of Inde- 
pendence was received in camp, Gene- 
ral Howe Lad made liis appearance in 
the lower bay fi'om Halifax, where he 
was sjieedily joined l)y his Itrother, 
Lord Howe, the admiral, who came 
bearing ineffectual projiositions for re- 
conciliation. Having occasion to ad- 
dress the American Commander-in- 
Chief, he failed to give him his propcjr 
title, lest he should recognize his posi- 
tion, Init superscribed his letter, " To 
George Washington, Estj." This was 
lioiTie T)y a messenger asking for Mr. 
Washington, who was properly re- 
minded, by the adjutant who met him, 
that he knew of no such person in the 
army, and the letter being produced, it 
was pronounced inadmissible. The 
messenger accordingly returned, and 
General Howe, some days after, sent 
another, ^vho asked for General Wash- 
ington, and being admitted to his 
presence, addressed him as Your Excel- 
lency^ offering another letter with vari- 
ous etceteras appended to the simple 
name, urging that they meant " every- 
thing." But Washington was not to 
be caught }>y a sul>terfuge. They 
may, indeed, said he, mean " eveiy- 
thing," but they also mean " anything," 
and he could not receive a letter relat- 
ing to his public station directed to 
him as a private person. So the Bi-it- 
ish adjutant -was compelled to report 
the contents of the e])istle, which re- 
lated to the reconciliation ; but here 
again he was checkmated ])y Washing- 
ton, who, aware of the nature of Lord 
Howe's overtures, replied that they 
were but pardons, and the Americans, 
who had committed no offence, but 



stood only upon their rights, could 
stand in no need of them. Thus ter- 
minated this interview, a most charac- 
teristic one, a model for dijdomatic 
action, and even private courtesy, which 
was highly appreciated l)y Congi'ess 
and the country at the time, and which 
will never be forgotten. 

Additional reinforcements to the 
royal troops on Staten Island now 
arrived from England ; a landing was 
made by the well-equipped army on 
Long Island, and a battle was immi- 
nent. Washington, who had his head- 
quai-ters in Ne\v York, made vigilant 
preparations around the city, and at tlie 
works on Long Island, which had been 
planned and fortified by Geneial 
Greene. Tliis officer unfortunately 
fiilling ill, the command fell to Geneial 
Putnam, -who Avas particularly charged 
by Washington with instructions for 
the defence of the i:)asses by which tlie 
enemy might approach. These were 
neglected, an attack was made from 
opposite sides, and in spite of much 
valiant fighting on the part of the va- 
rious defenders, who contended with 
fearful odds, the day was most disas- 
trous to the Americans. The slauc-hter 
was great on this 27th of August, and 
many prisoners, including General Sul- 
livan and Lord Stirling, were taken. 
Still the main works at Brooldyn, occu- 
pied by the American troops, remained, 
though, exposed as they were to the 
euemy'a fleet, they were no longer ten- 
able. Washington, whose duties kept 
him in the city to be ready for its de- 
fence, as soon as he heard of the 
engagement, hastened to the spot, but 
it was too late to tm-n the fortunes of 



22 



GEORGE WASHINGTON 



tlu' day. IIo was ooinpellod to witnoss 
tho tlisjustiT, tradition tells us, not with- 
out till' divpost onu>(ion. An unknown 
I'ontiMujiornry vorsitiiT of tlu> war, in 
liis simple rliynios, has eonunonioiatod 
the soouo : 

" l>r;>vo Wnsliiii);ton iVul say, 

Aliwt ptwil Olid, 
Hnivo mou I'vo lost to-ilny, 

Tlioy'ro in tlioir MiuhI. 
Ili.i griol'lio iliil o\i>ros3 
To 800 tlioin ill (listrosi», 
Ills tMrs luul liitiuU wiUicsa 

llo lovM his iiion." ' 

But it was tho glory of "Washington 
to Siivo tho ivnuiant of tho ai'niy by a 
rctivat nioi-o nionioraMo than tho vic- 
tory of (lonoral Clinton. Tl>o day 
after tho battle, and tho ne.xt, wore 
pjissed without any doeisive nioveniouts 
on tho part of tho British, who were 
about bringing up their ships, and who, 
doubtless, as they had good reason, 
eonsidi'red their j)roy seeiuv. On tho 
tweuty-ninth, Washington took his 
measures for tho retreat^ and so ]ior- 
foctly wore they arranged, that the 
whole force of nine thousand, with ar- 
tillery, boi*sos, and tho entire equipage 
of war, were borne oft" that night, under 
cover of the fog, to the opposite shore 
in triumph. It was a most masterly 
operation, j)lanned and superintended 
bv AVashiuLTton fivni the beginning. 
Ho did not sleep or rest after the bat- 
tle till it wjis e.vecuted, and was among 
the last to cross. 

After this followed in rapid succes- 
sion, though with no undue haste, the 
abandonment of New York, the with- 

' Dollad Litoratura of tho UcToIution. Cyclopadia of 
Ajurrican Litcmturc, I. US. 



di'awnl of the troops into "VVostchostor, 
the alVair at White Plains, tho mora 
serious loss of Fort Washington, and 
tho retreat through the Jerseys. It 
was the darkest j)eriod of the war, the 
days of which Paino wrote in the 
meiuoralile o.xprossion of the opening 
nund)er of his " Crisis." " Those are 
the times that try men's so\ds: tho sunt- 
mer soldier and the sunshine j>atriot 
will, in this crisi.s, shrink iVom the 
service t>f his country; but ho that 
stands it now, desi-rves tho love and 
thanks of man and woman." To infe- 
riority in numbers, with a host at its 
heels, the American soldiery added the 
serious disipnilifying conditions of lack 
of discipline and poverty of e(]uii)ment. 
Enlisted lor short terms, with all the 
evils of a voluntary militia unused to 
service, it was, as IIamilti>n, who shared 
the great chieftain's solicitudes, express- 
ed it, but " the phantom of a military 
force." Tho letters of Washington, 
at this jieriod, and indeed generally 
throuirhout the wiu\ are iillod with the 
anxieties of his ]>osition, in Avhieh he 
saw his fame perilled with the wellare 
of his eountry. The severest sutl'ering 
for an ingenuous mind is, j^orhaps, to 
bear unworthy reproach, to bo miscon- 
ceived by a iniblic for whom every 
sacritico is silently borne and euduroiL 
This was Washington's lot, for long, 
weary yoai's of marching and counter- 
marching between the Hudson and tho 
ChesajH'ake, husbanding his small, inef- 
ficient foive, retreating tivday, to-mor- 
row advancing, working the "phaU' 
torn " with such success in the face of 
the enemy as to porjilcx tho movements 
of experienced generals with consider- 



OEORGE WASUINQTON. 



23 



able forces. Nor was the fault altoge- 
ther at the (loor of Congress. That 
body was, iiideefl, a popular representa- 
tion, composed, at the outset, of vary 
al>l(; men, and always having such 
included in its numbers; but it was 
very loosely tied to its constituency. 
At present, the delegated power of the 
re[irc!sentative, where; not Hj)(;cially con- 
trolled, is absolute; but in the flimsy 
texture of the unformed body politic 
of the old confederacy, there was little 
cohesion of j)ai-ts or attention to mu- 
tual duties. The battles of the llevo- 
lutiou were fought with half-disciplined 
armies at the will of a half-formed 
administration. I^cal State jealousies 
had to be conciliated, and the people 
could not appreciate the advantage of 
an army, firmly handled, as the instru- 
ment of its own sovereign authority. 
Tlie battle had to be fought often and 
in many j)arts of the country, according 
to the immcfliate necessity and tempo- 
rary inclination. Much was gained by 
Washington, but it came slowly and 
reluctantly, though there were brilliant 
exc(;j)tions in the service. Generally, 
there was a want of regularity and 
imiformity. It was somewhat reme- 
died by the extraordinary powers con- 
ferred upon Washington at the close 
of 1T7G, but the evil was inherent in 
the necessarily loose political organiza- 
tion. 

After the battle of Long Island, 
there had been little but weariness and 
disaster, in the movements of Wash- 
ington, to the end of the year, when, 
as the forces of IIo\ve were apparently 
closing in upon him to open the route 
to PiiLLadelphia, he turned in very 



despair, and by the brilliant affair at 
Trenton retarded the motions of the 
enemy and checked the growing de- 
spondency of his countr}Tnen. It was 
well planned and courageously under- 
taken. Chiistmas night, of a most 
inclement, wintry season, when the 
river was blocked with ice, was chosen 
to cross the Delaware, and attack the 
British and Hessians on the opposite 
side at Trenton. The expedition was 
led ]>y AVashington in persf<n, who 
anxiously watched the slow process of 
the ti'anspoi-tation on the river, which 
lasted from sunset till near the dawn — 
too long for the contemplated surjn'ise 
by night. A storm of hail and snow 
now set in, as the General advanced 
witli his men, i-eaching the outposts 
about eight o'clock. A gallant onset 
was made, in wliieli Lieut. ]\roni'oe, 
afterwards the Piesident, was wounded ; 
Sullivan and the other officers, accord- 
ing to a previously arranged j)lan, 
seconded the movement from another 
part of the town; the Hessians were 
disconcerted, and their general, Rahl, 
slain, when a suiTcnder was made, 
nearly a thousand prisoners laying 
down their arms. General Howe, 
astonished at the event, sent out 
Comwallis in pursuit, and he had 
his game seemingly secure, when Wash- 
ington, in front of him at Trenton, on 
the same side of the Delaware, made a 
bold diversion in an attack on the 
forces left behind at Pnnceton. It 
was, like the previous one, conducted ])y 
night, and, like the other, was attended 
■with success, though it cost the life of 
the gallant Mercer. After these liril- 
liant actions tlie little army took up 



24 



GEORGE WASITINGTON. 



its quartera at MorristoAvu for the 
iviiitor. 

Ill tbo ?j)iinjr, Gt'iuTiil llowo inaili' 
soiiu' soiious a((i'inj)ts at luvakiiig up 
tlu' lino i>t' Wasliiiiuton in New Jcrsi'y, 
\>n{ lie was I'oiK'd, and roniju'llc'd to 
Seok anotlior nu'thod of I'oadiing riiila- 
(lolpliia. Tlio witlidiawal of tlu' Brit- 
ish ti\H)j)s would tliusliavo loft n yiniplo 
coui-se to be piirsuod on (lio Dolawaro, 
Lad not the attention of ^Vashingtou 
been called in another direction by the 
advance of Burgoyno fri>ni Canada, It 
was natural to su})poso that Howe 
Avould act in concert with that ollicer 
on the Hudson, nor was Washington 
relieved from the dilemma till intolli- 
genee reached him that the British 
general had embarked his forces, and 
•was actually at the Ca])es of the Dela- 
ware. He then took uj) a position at 
(icrniantown for the defence of Phila- 
delj)hi;u Visiting the city for the j)ur- 
pose of conference with Congress, he 
there found the ^Manpiis do Lafayette, 
who had just presented himself, as a 
volunteer in the cause of liberty, to the 
government. His reception by Con- 
gress had halted a little on his lii'st 
arrival, but his disinterestedness had 
overcome all obstacles, and AVashington, 
who had schooled himself to look upon 
realities without jtrejudice, gave the 
young foreign officer a cordial welcome. 
He took liim to the camji, and soon 
gave him an ojijiortuuity to bleed in 
the sacred cause. 

Howe, meanwhile, the summer liav- 
iug jiassed away in these uncertainties, 
was slowly making his -way up the 
Chesapeake to the Head of Elk, to gain 
access to Bhiljidflphia from Maryland, 



and the American army was advanced 
to meet him. The British troops num- 
bt'red about eighteen thousaml ; the 
American, jjcrhaps two-thirds of th;it 
numlier. A stand was made by the 
latter at Chad's Ford, on the east sidn 
of the Brandywine, to which Knyjihau- 
sen was opposed on the opposite baidc, 
while Cornwallis, with a large division, 
took the ni)per course of the river, and 
turned the ilank of the ])ositlon. Gene- 
ral Sullivan was intrusted with this 
])ortion of the defence; but time was 
lost, in the imcertainty of iufoi'niation, 
in meeting the movement, and when 
the i)artic3 met, Cornwallis had greatly 
the advantage. A rout ensued, which 
was saved from utter defeat by the 
resistance of Cu-neral Ciieene, who was 
placed at an advantageous point. La- 
fayette was severely Avoundcd in the 
leg in the course of tlie conilict. 
AVashino;ton was not dismayeil by the 
disaster; on the contrary, he kept the 
field, marshalling and mameuvring 
through a hostile country, one thousand 
of his tri")ops, as he informed Congress, 
actually baiefoot. He would have 
oflcred battle, but he was without the 
means to resist elVectually the occupa- 
tion of Philadelphii\, A jiart of the 
enemy's forces were stationed at Ger- 
mantown, a few miles from the city. 
Washington, considering them in an 
exposed situation, planned a surprise. 
It was well arranged, and at the outset 
was successful ; but, owing to the con- 
fusion in the heavy fog of the October 
moiTiing, and loss of strength and time 
in attackimj a stroncjly defended man- 
sion at the entrance of the village, what 
should have been a brilliant victi»i-y 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



25 



was changed into a partial defeat. The 
action, however, as Mr. Sparks ob- 
serves, was " not without its good 
effects. It revived the liopes of the 
country by jjroviug, that notwithstand- 
ing the recent successes of the enemy, 
neither the spirit, resolution and valor 
of the troops, nor the energy' and confi- 
dence of the commander, had suffered 
any diminution." It was the remark 
of the French minister, the Count de 
Vergennes, on hearing of tliese transac- 
tions, " that nothing struck him eo 
much as General Washington's attack- 
ing and giving battle to (Jenei'al Howe's 
army; that to bring an aniiy, raised 
within a year, to this, promised every- 
thing." 

Thus closed the campaign of 1777 in 
Pennsylvania, while Burgoyne was lay- 
ing down his arms to the northern 
anny at Saratoga. Though it was 
Washington's lot to endure all the 
difficulties of the service while Gates 
was reaping the rewards of victory, the 
former had his share in the counsels 
which led to that brilliant event. His 
letter to Schuyler, of the 2 2d of July, 
exhibited a knowledge of the position, 
and a prescience of the exact result, 
which show how successfully he would 
have managed the campaign in person. 
lie notices Burgoyne's first successes, 
and argues that they " will precipitate 
his min," while he sees his weakness in 
acting in detachment, exposing his par- 
ties to great hazard. " Could we," he 
xvrites, " be so happy as to cut one of 
them off, supposing it should not ex- 
ceed four, five, or six hundred men, it 
would inspirit the people, and do 
away much of theh* present anxiety." 
4 



Had he wi-itten after, instead of before 
the event, he could not better have 
described the influence of Bennington. 
To Washington, as the directing head 
of the national ai-my, belongs his full 
share of the glories of Saratoga; yet 
the accidental gi-eatness which fell to 
the vainglorious Gates was made the 
occasion of assaults upon the Comman- 
der-in-Chief, which would have crept 
from theii- mean concealments into open 
revolt, had not the conspiracy been 
strangled in its infancy by the incor- 
ruptibility of his friends and the vii'tue 
of the countiy. 

The encampment at Valley Forge 
succeeded the scenes we have de- 
scribed. It is a name synonymous 
with suffering. Half clad, wanting fre- 
quently the simplest clothing, without 
shoes or ]>lankets, the army was hutted 
in the snows and ice of that inclement 
winter. Yet they had Washington 
with them iirging every means for theii' 
welfare, while his "Lady," as his wife 
was always called in the army, came 
from Mount Vernon, as was her custom 
dujing these winter encampments, to 
lighten the prevailing despondency. 
She lived simply with her husband, 
sharing the huml^le provisions of the 
camp, and occupying herself ^viih her 
needle in preparing gaiments for the 
naked. Washington, meanwhile, was 
busy with a Committee of Congress in 
putting the army on a better foundation. 

With the retm-n of summer came the 
evacuation of Philadelphia by the Brit- 
ish, who were pursuing their route 
across New Jersey to embark on the 
waters of New York. AVashington 
with his forces was watcliing theu- 



20 



GEOROE WASHINGTON. 



niovonionta from al>ovo. Shall lie nt- 
tni'k tluMii on tlu'ir iiiaivh ? Tlu'iv was 
a division of ojjinion among his oflii^'is. 
Tho eqnivooal Cliailrs IjOo, tlu-n un- 
RUSjH'i'tod, uns o|)])(>s('d to tho step; hut 
AVashington, uith his host advi,sois, 
Groono, Lafayotto, and AVayno, was in 
favor of it. Ho accordingly sont La- 
fayotto forward, whon Loo intorposod, 
and olainu'd tlio ooniinand of tho ad- 
vanoo. AVashiniTton hinisolf movod on 

O 

"with tho reserve towards tho enemy's 
position near I^fonmouth Com-t Ilonso, 
to take i>art in tho fortunes of tho day, 
the 'J 8th of Juno. As he was jirooooil- 
iug, he was met by the intoUigenco that 
Lee was in full retreat, without notice 
or aj^jiaront cause, endangering tho 
order of the rear, and throatoning tho 
utmost confusion, rrosontly ho oamo 
upon Leo himself, and demanded from 
him with an emphasis roused hy the 
fioroost indignation — and tho anger of 
Washington whon excited was torrilic 
— tho cause i>f the disorder. Leo re- 
jdiod angrily, and gave such o.xplana- 
tion as ho could of a superior force, 
when Wavshington, doubtless mindful 
of his previous conduct, answered him 
with dissati.sfaction, and, it is said, 
on the authority of Lafayette, ended 
by calling the retreating general "a 
damned poltroon."^ It was a groat 
day for tho genius of "Washington. 
He made his arrangements on the spot 
to retrieve the fortimes of the hour, and 
80 admirable were tho disjwsitions, and 
8o Will Avas he seconded by tho bravery 
of ollicora and mvn, even Loo, reiloem- 
iug his character by his valor, that at 

' Dawson's " Battles of the United Stales," I. 40». 



the close of that hot and wearj' day, 
the Americans having added greatly to 
tho glory of tlitir arms, lemainod at 
least etjual masters of the iiold. 1'he 
next morning it was fo\uu\ that Sir 
Henry Clinton had witlidiawn towards 
Sandy Hook. The remainder of the 
season was ]>assed by Washington on 
tho eastern borders of the Hudson, in 
readiness to cou])erate with tho French, 
who had now arrived luider D'Kstaing, 
anil in watching tho British in New 
York. In December he took up his 
winter quarters at Middlobrook, in New 
Jersey. Tho event of the next )oar in 
the little anny of Wjishington, was 
Wayne's gallant storming of Stony 
Point, on the Hudson, ono of the de- 
fences of the Highlands, which had 
boon recently cai)turod and manned by 
Sir Henry Clinton. Tho attack on tho 
night of the ISth July was planned by 
Washington, and his directions in his in- 
structions to AVayne, models of careful 
military j)recision, wore faithfully car- 
ried out Henry Lee's sj)irited i\ttack 
on Paulus Hook, within sight of New 
York, followed, to cheer tho enc:mijv 
mont of Washington, who now busied 
himself in fortifying West Point. Win- 
ter again finds tho army in quarters in 
Now Jei-soy, this time at Morristown, 
when tho hardshijis and severities of 
Valley Forgo were even exceeded in the 
distressed condition of tho troops in that 
risjorous season. The main incidents of 
tho war are hencet'orth at the South. 

Tho most jiromiuent event in the 
l)oi-sonal career of Washington, of the 
year 1780, is certainly the defection 
of Arnold, with its attendant execution 
of Major Aniliv, This unha]>py trear 



GEORGE WASUINGTON. 



27 



sou waH every way calculated to enlist 
his feelings, but he suffered neither 
hate nor sympathy to di\ ei-t him from 
the considerate jmtli of duty. We may 
not pause over th(i sul^sequent events 
of the war, the renewed exertions of 
Congress, the severe cfjntests in the 
South, the meditated movement upon 
New York the following year, hut must 
hasten to the sc<£uel at Yorktown. The 
movement of the army of Washington 
to Virginia was determined }>y the ex- 
pected arrival of the French fle(;t in 
that quaiier from the West Indies. 
Lafayette was already on the spot, 
where h(i had Ijcen engaged in the de- 
fence of the country from the inroads 
of Arnold and PJjiJliji.s. Coniwallis 
had anived from the South, and unsu.s- 
picious of any serious opposition was 
entrenching himself on York Kiver. 
It was all that could he desired, and 
Washington, who had heen planning 
an attack upon New York with llo- 
charaheau, now suddenly and secretly 
directed his forces }>y a rapid march 
southward. Extraordinary exertions 
were made to expedite the troops. 
ITic timely arrival of Colonel John 
Lawrens, from France, with an instal- 
ment of the Fiench loan in specie, came 
to the aid of the liberal efforts of th(; 
financier of the llevolution, Itobert 
Morris. Lafayette, with the Virgin- 
ians, was hedging in the fated Corn- 
wallis. Washington had just left Phila- 
delphia, when he heard the joyous 
news of the arrival of De Grasse in the 
Chesapeake. He hastened on to the 
scene of action in advance of the troops, 
with De Rochamheau gaining time to 
pause at Mount Vernon, which he had 



not seen since the opening of the war, 
and enjoy a day's hun-ied hospitality 
with his French officers at the wel- 
come mansion. Airived at Wllliarns- 
buig, Washington urged on the mili- 
tary movements with the energy of an- 
ticipated victory. "Iluiiy on, then, 
my dear sir," he wrote to General Lin- 
coln, "with your troops on the wings 
of sp'jcd" To make tjie last arrangf:;- 
ments with the French admiral, he 
visited him in his ship, at the mouth 
of James' Ili ver. Everything was to he 
done l^efore succor couJd arrive from the 
British fleet and troops at New York. 
The combined French and Ameri- 
can forces closed in upon Yorktown, 
which was fortified T>y redoubts and 
batteries, and on the first of October, 
the place was completely investefL 
The first parallel was opened on the 
sixth. Washington lighted the first 
gun on the nintli. The storming of 
two annoying redoubts by French and 
American parties were set down for 
the night of the fourteenth. Hamilton, 
at the head of the lattci', gallantly car- 
lied one of the works at the point of 
the bayonet without firing a shot. 
Washington watched the proceeding at 
imminent hazard. The i-edoubts gained 
were foilifi<;d and turned against the 
town. The second parallel was ready 
to open its fire. Cornwallis vainly at- 
tempted to escape with his forces across 
the river. He received no relief from 
Sir Henry Clinton, at New York, and 
on the 17th he proposed a surrender. 
On the 19th, the terms having been 
dictated by Washington, the whole 
British force laid down their arms. It 
was the viilual termination of the war, 



28 



GEORGE WASniNGTOX. 



the oro'mnng net of a vast series of 
military operations ])lanne(l and per- 
fected by the genius of Washington. 

During the remainder of the Avar, 
his ellorts and vigihmee were not re- 
laxed ; and he had one op])ortunity, 
ever memorable in the annals of politi- 
cal liberty, of showing his superiority 
to the common ambition of eonijuerors. 
In Mi\y, 11S-, a letter was addressed to 
hun by Col. Nicola, an officer who had 
the esteem of the army, stating the 
inefficiency of the existing atlministra- 
tion, and suggesting a mixed form of 
government, with a King at its head, 
with no indirect appeal to the ambition 
of the Commander-in-Chief as the j)roper 
recipient of the office. To this, Wash- 
ington ivplied with the utmost decision, 
but without the least aH'cctation (>f 
doing anything heroic ; he simply puts 
the idea out of the way as something 
utterly inadmissible, " painful " and 
"disagreeable" to his mind. lie re- 
jects it as a gentleman would an 
unhandsome su£:c;estiou. ]\Iuch has 
been said of this matter, and there is 
reason to believe not unjustifiably, in 
praise of Washington. " There Avas 
unquestionably," says Mr. Sparks, " at 
this time, and for some time aftei-AA'ards, 
a party in the army, neither small in 
number nor insignilieaut in character, 
prepared to second and sustain a 
measiu-e of this kind, which they con- 
ceived necessary to strengthen the civil 
power, draw out the icsources of the 
countiy, and establish a durable govern- 
ment." No one felt these evils more 
keenly than Washington, but he had 
too much faith in the Republic to 
despair of a better method of cure. 



lie knew ns well as any that he could 
not be king if he would ; the anecdote 
is (piite sufficient to prove, where proof 
was not wanting, that he woidd not if 
he could. 

Another opportunity yet remained 
to exhibit his control of the temper of 
the army, and his habitual deference 
of military to civil government. The 
occasion arose while he was with the 
trooj)s at headi|Uarters at Newburg, 
in the spring of 1YS3, on the eve 
of the receipt of the final intelligence 
of ])eaee. Congress, always dilatoiy in 
j)i'oviding for the army, had shown an 
imwillingness or incapacity to meet 
their claims ; patient remonstrance had 
been disregarded ; and \\o\v a meeting 
of olTicers was called, instigated by an 
a])peal of extraordinary vigor, one of 
the comj>ositions since ascertained to 
have been written by General John 
Armstrong, and known as " The New- 
burg Lettei"s," which threatened serious 
revolt. It was not the first time that 
Washincrton had been called to act in 
such an emergency. In the withdrawal 
of the Pennsylvania line from the 
camp at the beginning of 1781, he had 
met a similar difficulty, with great 
prudence and moderation. lie now 
brought these qualities to bear with a 
quickness and decision proportioned to 
the crisis. Summonin!:: the officers 
together, he addressed to them a finu 
but tender remonstrance, opening his 
address Avith a touch of pathos Avhich 
trained all hearts. Pausing after ho 
had commenced his remarks, to take 
his spectacles from his pocket, he re- 
mai'ked that he had "grown grey in 
their service, and now I am growing 



OEOROE "WASniNGTON. 



29 



hlinrl." It was the honeHt heart of 
Washington, and the disafTccted re- 
sponded to the wisdom and feeling of 
his address. 

The news of peace anivod Avithin the 
month, and the anny ])rej)ared to 
separate. In memory of tlieir fra^ 
temity, the Society of the Cincinnati 
\viiH founded, consisting of officers of 
the Revolution and their descendants, 
with "Washingtr)n at its head. In the 
beginning of Novemher, he took leave 
of the army in an address from head- 
quarters, -with his accustomed -warmth 
and emotion, and on the 25tli, entered 
New York at the head of a military 
and civic procession as the British 
evacuated the city. ' On the 4th of 
December, he was escorted to the 
hai'bor on his way to Congress, at 
Annapolis, to resign his command, 
after a touching scene of farewell with 
his officers at Fraunces' Tavei-n, when 
the great chieftain did not disdain the 
sensibility of a tear and the kiss of his 
friends. Amved at Annapolis, having 
on the way delivered to the proper 
officer at Philadelphia his accounts of 
his expenses dui'ing tlie war, neatly 
written out by his own hand, on the 
twenty-third of the month he restored 
his commission to Congress, with a few 
remarks of great felicity, in which he 
commended " the interests of om* 
dearest country to the protection of 
Almfghty God ; and those who have 
the superintendence of them to his 
holy keeping." 

Mount Vernon again welcomed its 
restored lord. He reached his home 
the day before Christmas, and cheerily, 
doubtless, the smoke on that sacred 



holiday ascended from the thankfiil 
festivities. A few days after, a letter 
to Governor Clinton, of New York, his 
old comrade in arms, records the inner- 
most feeling of his heart. "The scene," 
he writes, " is at last closed. I feel 
myself eased of a load of public care. 
I hope to spend the remainder of my 
days in cultivating the affections of 
good men and in the practice of the 
domestic viiiues." Did ever conqueror 
so resign his heart before ? 

We may not linger, tempting as is 
the theme, over the simjde life on the 
Potomac, though there is to he studied, 
no less than in camps and senates, the 
true nature of the man. Kind, hos- 
pitable, sympathetic to every worthy 
ap2:)eal, engaged in the care of his 
estate, sowing, planting," reaping, the 
youthfulness of his old family circle 
renewed in the children of young 
Custis, who had followed his sister to 
an early gi'ave, he lived in dignified, 
cheerful retirement. He even revived 
his old sports of the chase, though he 
had no longer the veteran Fairfax to 
cheer him on with his halloo. The old 
nobleman had lived to listen to the 
tidings of Yorktown, when he turned 
himself to the wall and die(L 

Here Fame might be content to close 
the scene in her record of her favorite 
child. At the treaty of peace he was 
fifty-one, and had gloriously consum- 
mated the duties of two memorable 
eras in the history' of his country, each 
draAvinii alonjc its train of ideas — the 
war with France and the war with 
Great Britain; a double relief from 
foreign bondage; the establishment of 
religious and political independence 



30 



GKOIUI V. WASHINGTON. 



His services to eitli<M" would well sup. 
ply enough of incidont and oulogy for 
these i)ages — l)ut two furtlicr eras are 
yet lu'fi>re liliu. lie is to assist, by his 
nllpoworful v«)ii'e and exaiui)le, in 
guiding the nation he, more than any, 
liad formed, through its perilous crisis 
— the dangerous period when it was 
first K'ft to itsi'lf — to the calm mainte- 
nanee of civil lilicrty. It is the youth 
just freed from the restraint of harsh 
and initpiitous parentage, putting him- 
self under the yoke of a new and 
voluntary suhmission. This second 
jiupilage, to self-government, resulted 
in till' foiiiiatlon of the Constitutiou. 
Many ministered to that n(d)le end, far 
more wt>rthy of admiration even than 
the ])revious wars, but who more anx- 
iously, more j>erseveringly, than "Wash- 
ington I His aiithority carried the 
heart and intelligence i>f the country 
with it, and most ai^projjriatcly was he 
placed at the head of tlie Convention, 
in 17S7, which gave a government to 
the scattered States and made America 
a nation. 

Once more he was calleil to listen to 
the highest demanils of his country in 
his unanimous election io the Presi- 
di-ncy. AVith M'hat emotions, with 
what humlile resignation to the voice 
of duty, with how little lluttering of 
vain glory let the modest entry, in his 
Diary, of the llUh April, 1780, cited by 
"Washington Irving, tell : " About ten 
(.)Vlock," ho ^\Tites, " I bade adieu to 
Mount Vernon, to private life and to 
domestic felicity; and >\nth a iniml ojv 
pi"ea<*ed with more anxious and pain- 
ful sensations than I have words to 
oxi^ix'ss, set out for New York with the 



best disposition to render service to 
my country in obedience to its call, 
but with less hope of answering its 
expectations." He nuist liave felt, 
gravely as he bore his responsibilities, 
something of exulting emotion as he 
was borne along to the seat of govern- 
nu'ut at New York by the hearty 
plaudits of his countrymen. Yet we 
ui'ver hear, in a single instance, then 
or afterwards, of his exhibiting any 
feeling, or manifesting any conduct 
inconsistent with the simi)lest decorum 
of a gentleman. He was eminently 
friendly and social, but calm, dignified, 
and I'eserved, sujjeradding doubtless 
something, as was fitting, to his natural 
gravity, in thought of the nation which 
he rej>resented, but far removed from 
mock greatness. 

We have the most authentic means 
of apju-eciating Washington at this 
time, in his jirivate Diary, which has 
been jninted, from the first day of 
October, 1780, to the 10th day of 
March, 1 70(\ He had been five mouths 
seated in the rresidency, his inaugura- 
tion having taken ]>lace on the oOth 
April. During a j)ortion of this time 
he had been prostrated by illness, and 
death seemed at hand. We may jtause 
to note his ri>})ly to his jdiysician. Dr. 
Bard, who could not but express his 
feara of his recovery: "Whether to- 
night or twenty years hence makes no 
ditlerence; I know that I am in the 
hands of a good Providence ;" the very 
breathing of pious resignation. If 
aught were needed, news of his mo- 
ther's death, at Fivdericksburg, i-ame 
to temper the sober joy of his convales- 
cence. The erne of setting the machiu- 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



81 



cry of the new government in motion 
succeeded, when Congress adjourned, 
and the Diary introduces us to the 
New England tour, extending into 
New Ilarapsliire, to which lie devoted 
this interval of leisure. His roadside 
observations on this journey show his 
knowledge of agriculture, of which he 
was always a fond olwerver, with many 
simple traits (jf character ]>y the way, 
and one famed liistoric passage in his 
account of the reception at Boston, 
where Governor Hancock, slow in 
appreciating national etiquette, seemed 
to hesitate whether more was due to 
himself or to his Presidential guest. 
We may leani, too, from the Diary, his 
conscientious scrutiny, in private, of 
the processes leading to his public acts, 
and may venture within his sacred 
hours of retirement and open thos(! 
doors whicli were always closed to the 
world. On Sundays, he attends church 
in the morning, while .at New York, at 
St. Pauls, and occupies the afternoons 
with his piivate correspondence. On 
Tuesday his house is op(!n to all 
comers. There are many anecdotes of 
his residence here and at Philadelphia, 
of his mode of living during his two 
terms of the Presidcmcy. He was an 
early riser, a habit with him through 
life, and apportioned his day with the 
strictest accuracy. Economy he always 
practised on princij)le, " for the privi- 
lege of being indepen<lent;" and the 
otory is told of his rebuking his stew- 
ard for bringing on his table an expen- 
sive fish before it was in season. His 
table, however, was well served, and 
the affairs of his kitchen, like the rest 
of his establishment, were conducted 



with e.xemplaiy system. The njime of 
his cook, Hercules, " Uncle Harkless," is 
commemorated in the ^'Recollections" 
of his adopted son, (r(!oi-g(! Washington 
Parke Custis, who also tells us of tlio 
decorum preserved in the stables by 
the veteran. Bishop, who had T)een the 
body servant of General Braddock. 
The test of his "muslin horses" was, 
that tliey should not soil a handker- 
chief of that fabiic. Washington was 
a true Virginian in his fondness for 
horses. His ci'c^am-cohn-ed coach, with 
six shining bays, was long an o])ject of 
admiration to the people of Pjiiladel- 
phia. These, and the like anecdotes, 
are subordinate to the greatness of 
Washington's public life, but they 
bring ]>ef'oi'e us tlu; man.* 

In 1791, Washington made a Presi- 
dential tour thi-ough tlie SoutheiTi 
States, similar to his tour to the East, 
which has also been made; public in his 
piinted Diary. He travelled in his 
caniage along the seaboard througli 
Virginia and the Carolinas to Georgia, 
when he had the oppoiiunity of tra- 
versing many scenes of the ^war, ^vliich 
he had watched with so much anxiety, 
and which had been hitherto known to 
him only by report. 

' Ample illustrations of tliis character aro boforo tlio 
public in Mr. Custis' Rccolloctions, with Mr. Lossing'ii 
notes ; the latter'a " Mount Vernon ami its Aa.sociatcs ;" 
the Northern ami Southern Tours of Wa«hin{;ton, in his 
two Diaries, publlBhed by Mr, Uichanlson, at New York, 
and the late Mr. Richard Rush's review of the Correspon- 
dence of Washington with his private secretary, Lear. 
Irving's Life abounds with line personal traits of charac- 
ter; Mrs. Kirkland has added much iu lior excellent 
"Memoirs" from a careful study of the original MSK. in 
the Department of State; Paulding's "Life" has BOinc- 
tliing that is not cl.^ewherc, and every student ol Wa.-;h- 
inglon must aeknowh'dge with pleasure his obligation ia 
little things, as in great, to Mr. Jarcd Sparka. 



82 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



Mennwliilc, parties wore gniilually 
forming in tbe govermueut — tlie couser- 
vativi' and tlu' i)r()i;;ri'ssivc, smli as will 
always arise in liimian institutions — 
representod in the administration ])y 
the rival statesmen, Hamilton and Jef- 
feraon; l)ut Washington honestly recog- 
nized no guide but the welfare of his 
country, and the rising waves of faction 
beat harmlessly beneath his Presi- 
dential chair. One test question, how- 
ever, rose in those days into gigantic 
proportions. The example of America 
was followed by France with entliusi- 
asm in the recovery of her libciiies, 
and the hearts of noble-sj)irited men 
throughout the world responded to her 
eflbrts for freedom. Washington could 
not but extend his cordial sympathy, 
when Lafayette sent to him the thril- 
ling intelligence, and forwarded to his 
kcej.ing, as a souvenir of rising liberty, 
the key of the IJastile ; yet even then 
lie breathes a prayer for the safety of 
his frieud in " the tremendous tem- 
pests" which had " assailed the jjolitical 
shij)." In the darker <lays of the Re- 
public, stained with l)lood, which suc- 
ceeded, he watched with trembling the 
staggering of the ship. It was in 
Washington's second administration, 
to which he had been chosen with no 
dissentient voice, that French atl'airs 
really became a home question. The 
minister Genet then came to America, 
nud prosecuted his insulting attempts 
to enlist the synqiathies of America in 
the war of his country with England, 
and violate the professed neutrality of 
the government. A considerable jior- 
tion of the jico]>lc were so forgetful of 
themselves jiud their country as to 



favor his schemes ; but no 6uch sophis- 
try or delusion could reach the mind 
of Washington. He stood firm, and 
the whole country learnt in lime to 
actpiiesce in the wisdom of his decision ; 
but many a paug was inflicted first on 
the heart of the President, who was 
keenly sensitive to jxipular ingratitude. 
The contest culminated in the strutjy-le 
over Jay's British Treaty in Congress, 
and Washington fairly gained a tri- 
umph iu the vote of ap])roval. There 
were other public events of imjjortance 
in his two administrations. The West- 
ern Indian War, and the Penusyhania 
Whisky Insurrection, both di'eplj^ 
engaged his attention. His emotion 
on first hearing the news of St. Clair's 
tU'feat, exhiljited iu the presence of his 
j)rivate secretary, Tobias Lear, "was one 
of those bursts of passion, brief and 
rare, in his life, but fearful in their 
strength. His instructions to that 
oflicer, on ])arting, had been most care- 
ful. He was about to engage in a war- 
fare which Washington had learnt to 
know so well, iu the experiences of his 
early life, and his injunctions Avere 
given with proportionate earnestness. 
" Beware," said he at ])artiug, " of a 
surprise ;" and St. Clair dej^arted with 
the startling admonition. When Wash- 
intrton heard of the disaster to his 
troops, the scene of desolation, with all 
its consequences, came vividly to his 
mind with the lurking strength of his 
own olil im])ressions. " Oh, God ! oh, 
God !" he exclaimed, " he's woi-se than 
a murderer ! How can he answer it to 
his country ! The blood of the slain 
is upon him — the cui-se of widows and 
orphans — the cui'se of heaven !'' This 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



83 



fervid outbreak was followed, almost 
instantly, by the reliound, which was 
truly characteristic of Washinfjton : " I 
will heal' him without prejudice ; he 
shall have justice." Thus, iu the very 
tempest and whirlwind of his rage, in 
the words of the great di'amatist, the7"e 
was " a temperance to beget a smooth- 
ness." Washington was always ti-ue to 
the cardinal principle of justice. In 
like manner with the Pennsylvania 
insuj-gcuts, he was zealous in the main- 
tenance of authority, but disposed to 
mercy at the first signs of submis- 
sion. 

As the close of his second adminis- 
tration approached, he turned his 
thoughts eagerly to Mount Vernon for 
a few short years of repose ; aud w(;ll 
had he earned them by his long series 
of services to his countiy. He would 
have been welcomed for a third tenn, 
but office had no temptation to divert 
him from his settled resolution. Yet 
he parted fondly -vvith the nation, and 
like a parent, desired to leave some 
legacy of counsel to his country. Ac- 
cordingly, he published in September, 
1796, in the "Daily Advertiser," in 
Philadelphia, the paper known as his 
Farewell Address to the People of the 
United States. It had long engaged 
his attention ; he had planned it him- 
self, and, careful of what he felt might 
be a landmark for ages, had consulted 
Jay, Matlison and Hamilton in its com- 
position. The spu'it and sentiment, 
the political Avisdom and patriotic fer- 
vor were every whit his own. Open- 
ing with a few personal remarks in 
reference to his Presidency, he })roceeds 
enlarging his view to new generations 
5 



in the future. His fii-st thought is 
for the preservation of national unity- — 
that the Union should receive " a cor- 
dial, habitual and inmiovable attach- 
ment." The force of language cannot 
be exceeded with which he urges the 
importance of this theme })y eveiy 
appeal of sensibility and interest. The 
Constitution is then commended, as the 
guardian of the whole, to the national 
affection and respect, with a warning 
intimation of the dangers of party- 
spirit carried to excess. E(|ually upon 
governors and governed does ho im- 
press his views. At home he calls for 
the diffusion of knowledge, a respect 
for public credit, avoiding needless 
debt ; and for our intercourse with 
other nations, strict impartiality. Let 
us have, says he, " as little ^^rv^/Z/cwZ 
connection with them as possible." 
This and Union are the main themes 
of the discourse, which closes with the 
anticipation of " that retreat in which 
I promise myself to realize, without 
alloy, the sweet enjoyment of partak- 
ing, in the midst of my fellow-citizens, 
the benign influence of good laws under 
a free government, the ever favorite 
object of my heaii, and the hapjiy 
reward, as I tinist, of our mutual cares, 
labors and dangers." 

Thus, once agaiu. Mount Vernon re- 
ceived her son, destined never long to 
repose unsolicited by his countiy, 
France, pursuing her do\vnward course, 
adopted an aggressive policy towards 
the nation, which the most conciliating 
deference could no longer suppoi-t. A 
state of quasi war existed, and actual 
war was imminent. The President 
looked to Washiutiton to ojjianize llio 



84 



GEORQE WASHINGTON. 



lUTny ami take the coiumand, sluniUl it 
be l»ronii;ht into action, and lie aoeord- 
intjly Inisiod liimsolf in tlu' neeossary 
prei>arations. It was bost, lie tJioiiLclit, 
to be jn'ei»arod for tlie worst Avliilo 
lookius; for the best. Kow no<rotiatious 
■were then opened, but lie did nt)t live 
to witness their ])aeifie resvdts. lie 
was at his home at IMount Veruon, 
intent on public afl'aii-s, and making his 
rounds in his usual faiin oeeupatlons, 
with a vigor and hardihood which had 
abated little fv>r his yeai-s, when, on the 
12 th December, he sufiered some con- 
siderable exposure from a storm of 
snow and rain which came on while he 
wiis out, and in whiih he continued his 
ride. It proved, the next da}-, that he 
had taken cold, but he made light of it, 
and passed his usual evening cheerfully 
with the family circle. He became 
worse duriuiT the uiirht with iuflamma- 
tiou of the throat. lie was seriously 
ill. Having sent for his old army sur- 
geon. Dr. Craik, he was bled by his 
overseer, and again on the arrival of 
the physician. All was of no avail, 
and he calmly prepared to die. "I 
am not afraid," said he, " to go," while 
with ever tlu>uglitful courtesy he 
thanked his friends and attendants 
for their little attentions. Thus the 
day wore away, till ten in the night, 
when his end was f;ist ajiproachiug. 



He noticed the failing moments, liia 
last act being to place his hand uj)oa 
his piilse, and cahuly expired. It was 
the fourteenth of December, 17'.>l). 
His remains were inteired in the jn'ave 
on the bank at Mount Vernon, in front 
of his residence, and there, in no long 
time, according to her i)rediction at the 
moment of his death, his wite, I\Iarth;i, 
whose miniature he always wore on his 
breast, was laid beside him. She died 
within three yeai-s of lier husband, at 
INIouut Vernon, the 2"2d of May, 1802. 

We need not follow a mourning i>ub- 
lie in their sorrow and lamentations 
over the grave of Washington, or trace 
the growing admiration which attends 
his naine tlirouirhout the world wlier- 
ever it has been heard. His merits 
and virtues are now proudly spoken of 
and dearly reverenced in the land of 
his ancestors, asrainst which he led the 
m'mies of his countr}men. Every day 
it is felt that he belongs more and 
more to the world. He enjoys that 
apotheosis of fame awarded to the 
great spirits of the earth, who have 
been chosen by Pro\'ideuce to grand 
national duties ; but more than most 
of them, his memory is the reward of a 
life of piety and purity, of simj)le faith 
and justice, of uurelaxing duty; great 
in its acts, greater in the heiut, iuspiiing 
virtues which dictated them. 




Jffni. /f/d??/,) 



I 



JOHN ADAMS. 



The Adams family, witli whom private 
and public worth may be said to be 
hereditary, may be traced in the earliest 
annals of the colony of Massachusetts 
to Henry Adams, who, in 1640, settled 
at Braintree. His son Joseph adhered 
to the place through along life and left 
a son of the same name who continued 
on the spot, while his elder brother John, 
the grandfather of the celebrated Sam- 
uel Adams, removed to Boston. This 
Joseph last mentioned was the grand- 
father of the second President of the 
United States. 

John Adams, the subject of this 
paper, was born in the town of Brain- 
tree, October 19, 1735. His father was 
something more than a i-espectable, 
he was a useful citizen of the 
town ; he had been educated at Har- 
vard ; held the offices of deacon and 
selectman, honoring the one by his 
piety and discharging the other with 
fidelity, and according to a habit not 
unfrequent with small property-holders 
in New England, eked out the re- 
sources of his farm by shoe-making. 
Taking care to transmit the benefit 
which he had received, he provided 
that his eldest son, John, should have 
the advantage of a college education. 
He was prepared for Plar^^ard by the 
aid both of the Congregational minister 



and of the Episcopal reader at Brain- 
tree, was a good student of his class, 
which sent many eminent men into the 
world, and in due time graduated at 
the age of twenty in 1755. The talent 
which he displayed in the commence- 
ment exercises, attracted the notice of a 
person present, charged Avith a commis- 
sion to supply a Latin master for the 
Grammar School of Worcester. He 
applied to Adams, who imdertook the 
task, and shortly after set out on the 
horse sent for him by the town's people, 
making the sixty miles' journey in a 
single day. This transfer fi'om the 
home sphere was highly favorable to 
his development : he was thrown upon 
his o^vn resources among strangers, and 
doubtless the privations and little 
vexations of his schoolmaster's life, 
stimulated his independent nature to 
further exertions. 

The school appears at fii'st to have 
been very distasteful to his aspiring 
mind ; but he became reconciled to its 
duties, and doubtless profited by the 
discipline which he himself adminis- 
tered. " I find," says he, after some 
months' occupation at this diiidgeiy in 
shaping the cinide material of the Wor- 
cester nurseries, " I find by repeated 
observation and experiment in my 
school, that human nature is more 

85 



S6 



JOHN ADAMS. 



easily wrought upon and governed by 
promises and eiioourageinent and juaise, 
than by punishment and threatening 
and bhuue" — a seutenee which shoulfl 
bi' grafted in tlie memory of every 
sehoohaaster in the hind. 

The j)edagoguo is not altogether 
given over to mending iwn», the agree- 
able alternations of biivhing and ferul- 
ing or a-b-c-ing the bojs, t)f whieh he 
humorously eom])lains, but linds time 
to store his mind with good reading, 
makes aeipiaintanee with the writings 
<.>f such politieal j)hiloso])hers as Gor- 
don and Bolingbn)ke, and is ambitious 
of the soeiety of the place, always con- 
Bcious that John Adams should be 
somebody in the world, and that it is 
but an act of common justice to himself 
to take all proj)cr means to secure tlie 
])ositiou. The house of Colonel Jmnes 
Putnam, an able lawyer of the j)lace, is 
oj)en to him ; thither he fre(iueutly 
resorts, and after awhile, the law secur- 
ing his attention — he had by tliis time 
j)retty well argued himself out of the 
New England orthodo.^y, and so given 
up any thoughts of the jmljiit — pro- 
j>oses to study the profession with his 
friend. Mr. Putnam consents, and 
IMi-s. Putnam makes provision in the 
house for the student, who is also to 
continue in charge of the urchins at the 
school. Tlie legal a]>prenticeship con- 
tinues two years, during which it is to 
be regretted that the Diary is sUent, 
when .It)hn Adams takes leave of the 
l)o])ulatiou of "Worcester, little and 
great, to seek ailniissiou to the Colonial 
bar. He takes up his residence with 
his father at Braiutree, or Quincy, as it 
is now called, at thp old paternal dwell- 



ing, and one day in October, IT^S, 
goes to Boston to be intri)duced by 
Attorney-General Gridley, the father 
of the bar, to the Superior Court, and 
is admitted Attorney at Law in his 
Majesty's Courts of the Province. 

The attorney relaxes none of his dili- 
gence in attention to the old law, in 
the study of lahorious volumes, over 
which the dust has long gathered in 
legal libraries. Those were the days 
before Blackstone, when no republican 
road had been marked out to the secret 
jilaces of the profession, when the 
ma.xim of Coke, the viijintl annontm 
InciiIjrationes\ was still in vogue, when 
no Lord Broucrham or reviser of the 
statutes had risen to prepare the smooth 
pathway of legal reform. Reading the 
entries of these grave old studies, bur- 
dened with the traditions of English 
centuries, from Bracton and Fleta, Coke 
and Fortescue, we may ask, "A\Tiere 
be his (|uiddets now, his quillets, his 
cases, his teiuires, and his tricks ?" Gone 
^vith the old wigs and colonial state, 
and we need sigh no alas ! at the 
reminiscence. 

We see Adams, in these years of 
opening manhood, lighted along his 
daUy path l)y the cheerful, pleasant 
Diary, the man of the world and of 
society, emei'ging from the old formal- 
ism; the independent thinker, built on 
the antiquarian student, as he gathers 
strength from discussion, and takes the 
measure of the leaders of that day. He 
is not backward in entering into con- 
troversy with, and judging some of 
them, but he retires at night to be a 
more riijid censor of himself. There is 
a sufficient stock of vanity in some of 



JOHN ADAMS. 



37 



his revelations, but there is a greater 
diffidence ; and he manages to blend the 
two into a good working union, dili- 
gence furnishing the bottom, and vanity 
being only the spur to his honorable 
career. There is some vainglory, jier- 
ha2)s, in his writing down, even pri- 
vately for himself, how he spent his 
evenings in company with a book at 
the fii'eside, while Doctor Gardiner, 
Billy Belcher, Stephen Cleverly, the 
Quincys, and other young fellows of 
the town, are playing cards and drink- 
ing punch at the tables : but it is not 
the less true that he is thereby preparing 
himself to emerge from poverty, receive 
fees, bear Parson Smith's daughter as 
his wife to his home, and in good time 
support the duties of the State. Hav- 
ing mentioned this marriage, we may 
Jiere, a little out of date, state that the 
event occurred in October, 1764; that 
the lady, the fair Abigail, was the 
daughter of the Bev. William Smith, 
of Weymouth, and grand-daughter of 
Colonel John Quincy, of Mount Wol- 
laston, of colonial fame ; that she was 
young, and possessed accomplishments 
in intellect and reading, projiortioned 
to his own, as her published letters 
testify ; and that the union, "the source 
of all his felicity," continued for fifty- 
three years, having its only pang in 
absence and the final separation. 

We are now to trace Adams' politi- 
cal career. It began with his offering 
public resolutions at Braintree, and 
his maintaining an argument in behalf 
of the town of Boston, addi'essed to the 
Colonial Government in opposition to 
the Stamjj Act. He published, about 
the same date, several papers in the 



" Boston Gazette," which were reprinted 
in London by Thomas Ilollis, who gave 
them the not very fortunate title, " A 
Dissertation on the Canon and the 
Feudal Ijaw," which has probably pre- 
vented many persons looking at the 
tract, who would be interested by its 
review of the principles of the New 
England settlements, and its vigorous 
appeal to the people in the existing 
struggle. Notwithstanding he was 
looked to as a leader for the popular 
party, he had no sympathy with their 
acts of violence, and when the distui'b- 
ance occurred which resulted in the 
filing upon the people by the Biitish 
troops, he independently and humanely, 
a thing which should always be re- 
membered in his honor, gave his ser- 
vices to Preston and the defence. This 
caused him some unpopularity, but did 
not hinder his election, immediately 
after, to the General Coui't, as the legis- 
lative body was called in Massachu- 
setts. When the news of his election 
was brought to him, he made his first 
appearance at Faneuil Hall, and ac- 
cepted the choice. It was the tm-ning 
point of his career. On one side lay a 
profitable legal practice, in a routine 
dear to the legal mind ; on the other a 
troubled sea of opposition and revolt. 
A pojiular nominee has seldom accepted 
an election with less of satisfaction. 
" I considered the step," he said, " as a 
devotion of my fiimily to ruin and my- 
self to death." Mrs. Adams burst into 
tears at the event, but approved the 
choice ; the duty was clear, and the 
rest was piously left to Providence. 

He was now a resident of Boston, 
but the constant labors of his profes- 



88 



JOHN ADAMS. 



Bion, ami the confinement of the city 
■wearing iipon his health, he resigned 
Lis seat in the Legishature, and again 
made Kia residence in Braintree, having 
hia ofliee in Boston. Ilis studies, 
family cares, and the duties of hia pro- 
fession, had thus far, rather than poli- 
tics, mainly engaged hia attention. 
The time was come, however, Avhen 
l)usiness was at an end, and home, to 
lie enjoyed, must he protected. If all 
the leadei-s of opinion did not speak 
openly of revolt and revolution, thei-e 
•were jirohaMy few of them -who did 
not feel that they were drifting rajiidly 
towards it. 

In 1774 he was appointed by the 
Genernl Court one of the Bepresenta- 
tives to the Congress at Philadelphia; 
Lis associates being Thomas Cushing, 
Samuel Adams, and his troublesome 
old friend, " Bob," now- Robert Ti-eat 
Paine. They journeyed toirether in 
one coach, through llartfortl and New 
Haven to New York. At Xew York 
Adams is nuich taken with I\IeDougall, 
jiarticularly his oi)en manners. The 
tlelegates are received with hospitality, 
so that Adams com])lains of not being 
able to see the objects of interest in the 
to\\'n. VTlxiit were they at that time ? 
The college, the churches, printing 
offices, anil booksellers' shops ; few in- 
deed to be corapai'ed with the present 
lions, yet relatively great to the people 
of that day. 

Piissiug on to Princeton, his patriot- 
ism is retreshi'd by a conference with 
President Witherspoou, " as high a son 
of liberty as any man in America." 
One of the llrst persons he is introduced 
to at Pluladel])hia is Charles Thomson, 



the perpetual Secretaiy of Congress, 
whom he understands is "the Sam 
Adams of rhiladili)hia, the life of the 
cause of liberty;" a valuable testimony 
this, by the way, if he ninnled such, to 
the j)oj)ular estimate of hia associate. 
The business of the Congress at once 
engages his attention. He has to study 
"the characters and tempers, the prin- 
ciples and views of fifty gentlemen, 
total strangers, and the trade, policy 
and whole interest of a dozen provinces ; 
to learn and jiractise reserve in the com- 
munication i>f his jilans and wishes." 
The discussions are tedious. " Every 
man is a great man, an orator, a critic, 
a statesman ; and therefore cveiy man, 
ujion every question, must show his 
oratory, his criticism, and his politiciil 
abilities." Yet this Congress held 
Washington, Jay, Patrick Henry, 
Samuel Adams, John Dickinson, Bich- 
ard Henry Lee, Butledge, Gadsden, and 
other notables, and men learnt to sigh 
a fcAV years afterwards, when the repre- 
sentation fell into neglect, at the thought 
of these early deliberative gianta In 
fact, all great efforts have their weari- 
ness; of all things human, there is none 
great enough to satisfy the wants of the 
sold. Adams, with the rest, did his 
good day's work discussing a Declara- 
tion of Rights, confronting Galloway, 
the projector of a plan for imion M-ith 
England, debating the non-importation 
resolutions, consulting with Patrick 
Henry on the Petition to the King, 
and when the long morning work is 
over, dining and feasting with the 
wealthy citizens of Philadelphia, in 
admiration at the costly entirtainments, 
and a little surprised that he is not 



JOHN ADAMS. 



39 



affected l)y the unusual libations of 
Madeira. 

Ketuming home to Massachusetts 
after the short session of this body, he 
is cliosen to the Proviucial Congress, 
alj'eady quite busy with revolt, and 
when this duty is discharged, turns his 
pen to answer the annoying Toiy argu- 
ments of Massachusettensis, Daniel 
Leonard, as it afterwards appeared, who 
was greatly cheering the hearts of the 
administration men in the colonies by 
his logical efforts in the " Gazette and 
Postboy." The replies of Adams, 
signed Novanglus, covering the old 
legal and historical issues, twelve in 
number, accomplished something of a 
diversion, or as tlio author afterwards 
expressed it, " had the effect of an anti- 
dote to the poison." There were 
several unpul;lished in the printei''s 
hands, when the Battle of Lexington 
"changed the instruments of warfare 
from the pen to the sword." Three 
weeks afterwards he was at Philadel- 
phia at the Second Congress, in 1775. 
Befoi'e his departure from Boston, he 
had visited the camp at Cambridge, and 
observed its necessities. Early on the 
assembling of Congress, he proposed 
Washington for Commander-in-Chief; 
" the modest and virtuous, the amiable, 
generous and brave," as he calls him in 
a letter to his wife, and has the satisfac- 
tion of accomjianying him a little way 
out of Philadel2)hia towards his distant 
command. Franklin, Avho had recently 
bid farewell to England, was also a 
member of this body. 

During the first session of this Con- 
gi'ess, Adams was diligently employed 
in the preparatory measui'es which led 



to the Declaration of Independence and 
Confederation of the following year. 
As the time approached, his activity 
and boldness were displayed as the full 
grandeur of tlie scenes rose to his mind. 
" Objects," he wrote to William Cush- 
ing, " of the most stupendous magni- 
tude, and measures in which the lives 
and lil^erties of millions yet unborn 
are intimately interested, are now be- 
fore us." " Yesterday," he writes to his 
wife, on the third of July, 1V76, on 
the passage of Lee's Resolution of In- 
dependence, " the greatest question was 
decided which ever was debated in 
America, and a greater, perhaps, never 
was nor will be decided among men ;" 
and again the same day, in another let- 
ter to Mr-s. Adams, a remarkable pro- 
j)hetic passage — "The second day of 
July, 1776, will be the most memorable 
ejioch in the history of America. I am 
apt to believe that it will be celebrated 
by succeeding generations as the great 
Anniversary Festival. It ought to 
be commemorated, as the day of deli- 
verance, by solemn acts of devotion 
to God Almighty. It ought to be 
solemnized Avith pomp and parade, with 
shows, games, spor-ts, guns, bells, bon- 
fires and illuminations, from one end of 
this continent to the other, from this 
time for-ward, forevermore." 

Adams was on the committee for pre- 
paring the Declaration, and was active 
in the debate. In the absence of the 
present system of executive duties of 
government, the old Congress was com- 
pelled to resor-t to the awkward ex 
pedient of boards, in which the honoi 
and cfficiencv, rather than the; toil, were 
diminished by the division of labor 



40 



JOHN ADAMS. 



Atlains was made chairman of the 
Board of War, and was much cmjiloyed 
iu military affairs till his departure 
from Congress at the close of the next 
year. 

In November, 17Y7, Congress, having 
become dissatisfied with the manage- 
ment of Silas Dean, in France, appoint- 
ed Adams iu his place. He set sail iu 
the tVisrate Boston iu the ensuiuir 
February, from Boston, accompanied 
by his son, John Quincy, then a boy 
of ten. The voyage was diversified by 
a chase and a storm, and the usual 
incidents of navigation. Adams, as 
we leai"n from his Diary, employed 
liimself iu observations of the disci- 
pline, the care of the men, and other 
poiuts of naval regulation for which he 
lunl an eye from his duties iu Congress. 
After a voyage of some six weeks, 
escaping the dreaded perils of the 
British cmisers, he was landed safely 
at Bordeaux. At Paris he took up his 
residence under the same roof with Dr. 
Franklin, and was shortly introduced 
by him to Vergenues and ]\[aurepas. 
The domestic diplomacy of the com- 
missioners was at first siirht more 
formidable than that of the court. 
They were quite at odds vnth one ano- 
ther. Lee with Franklin and Deane, 
the general mischiefmonger of the 
party. Adams saw the source of the 
difficulty in the mingling of diplomatic, 
commercial, and pecuniaiy transactions, 
and advised that these duties should 
be divideiL In accordance with his 
suggestions. Congress made the divi- 
sion, creating Franklin minister at 
Paris, and sending Arthur Lee to 
Madi-id Oddly euough, Adams, the 



mover of the resolution, was left out 
of the programme entirely. Finding 
nothing to do iu the way of govern- 
ment employ, ami iudisjjosed to be an 
idle obsen-er of the Parisians, thoutrh 
he envies his " venerable colleairue," as 
he calls Franklin, then seventy, his 
privileges with the ladies, and is rea- 
dily pleased with the sights about him, 
he is bent upon returning home, and 
an opportunity at length ottering itself 
in the departure of the French ambas- 
sador, the Chevalier de la Luzerne, he 
sets sail from Lorient, June 17, 1779. 
The frigate Sensible arrived at Bos- 
ton on the second of August; within a 
week he was elected by his towns- 
people, of Braintree, their delegate to 
the Convention to frame a Constitution 
for Massachusetts. The honor and 
responsibility of much of the work fell 
into his hands ; but T)efore it was com- 
pleted, he was again summoned to the 
foreign service of his country, as minis- 
ter to ncijotiate with Great Britain. 
Embarking in the Sensible, the French 
frigate in which he had returned, he 
was landed iu Gallitia, travelled thence 
through Spain to Bayoune, a journey of 
which his Diary gives an interesting ac- 
count, and an-ived at Paris in Februaiy, 
1780. Obstacles were here thrown in 
the way of his negotiation with England 
by the minister, Vergenues, who wished 
to keep the foreign policy of America 
under his control iu subordination to 
French interests. The influence which 
the important aid rendered to America 
by the French government had given 
to her councils, occasioned much em- 
baiTassment in the adjustment of the 
treaty with England. It is a i>aiuful 



JOHN ADAMS. 



41 



portion of tlie Hstoiy of America, this 
conflict of intrigue and benefits, of 
love of America and hatred of Eng- 
land ; of Lafayette and Vergennes, 
smoothed over by the gratitude of 
Congress and the compliments of the 
monarchy, to break out into insidious 
plotting and open assault under the 
Revolution. This French imbroglio is 
henceforth to give John Adams a vast 
deal of trouble. Vergennes suspects 
his fidelity to the French anti- Anglican 
policy, and Adams, with Jay, thinks 
the Frenchman will sacrifice the inter- 
ests of America. The negotiations 
are finally brought to a close by a 
body of coromissioners charged with 
the work, embracing Adams, Franklin, 
Jay, Jefferson, and Laui'ens. In the 
meantime, Adams is busy in Holland, 
cultivating the Dutch capitalists, pre- 
paring the way for a loan and a treaty 
of alliance. That his coimtiy may be 
put upon a proper footing for these 
negotiations, he employs his pen in 
John Luzac's "Leyden Gazette," an 
organ of much service to America in 
the Revolution, and takes other means 
of disseminatinsc coiTect information. 
That his articles might have more 
authority, he sent the communication 
to be first published in an English 
journal, that they might be thence trans- 
ferred to the Dutch Gazette. He also 
drew up a series of replies to the 
inquii'ies of a gentleman of Holland 
touching American affairs, which have 
been often published, and which now 
appear in the collection of his writings 
with the title, "Twenty-six letters upon 
interesting subjects respecting the Re- 
volution of America." The prospects 
6 



of a loan were broken up for a time by 
the war between Holland and Eng- 
land, in which an alleged alliance with 
America, which did not exist, was 
made the pretence of wanton aggres- 
sion. But Adams, single-handed, per- 
severed. He was presently reinforced 
by special authority from home, and 
had the satisfaction at last, not only of 
procm'ing a valuable loan, but of secui'- 
ing the recognition of his country by 
Holland as an independent power. 
This treaty of alliance was completed 
in October, 1782. 

In the month following the conclu- 
sion of the negotiations in Holland, 
Adams, with Jay and Franklin, signed, 
at Paris, the preliminary articles of 
peace with England. He shared with 
Jay his suspicions of Vergennes ; and 
Fi'anklin, being led by their convic- 
tions, the responsibility was taken of 
canying on the negotiation independ- 
ently of France, and even contrary to 
the orders of Congress. The definitive 
treaty was not signed tiU the next 
September. When Adams had put his 
signatm'e to this important instrament, 
he immediately set out for England to 
regain his health, which had been much 
imj^aired by his confinement and labors 
and a recent severe illness. His visit 
at this time was unofficial. He appears 
to have enjoyed "with his usual zest the 
sights of the metropolis, in procuiing 
admission to which he found his coun- 
tiyman, Benjamin West, as influential 
as a prime minister. In the lobby of 
the House of Lords he had the gratifica- 
tion of hearing the gentleman usher of 
the black rod "roar out with a very 
loud voice, where is Mi-. Adams, Lord 



42 



JOHN ADAMS. 



Mansfield's friend ?" The painter, West, 
renionil)enn2' the denunciations of Mur- 
ray against his country in that same 
House of Lords, said to Adams, " this 
is one of the finest finishings in the 
picture of American Independence." 

Ilis next diplomatic em])loymont 
was as a coniuiissiouer with Franklin 
and Jefferson, to negotiate treaties of 
peace ^\nth the European nations. 
These engagements abroad having now 
assmned something of a permanent cha- 
racter, he Avas joined by INIis. Adams, 
whom he hastened from the Conti- 
nent, on her arrival in England, to con- 
duct to his residence at Auteuil, in the 
suburb of Paris, in the summer of 1784. 
In February, 1785, Congi-ess appoints 
John Adams the first American minister 
to Great Britain, and in May he is in- 
stalled in the English ca])ital. Friendly 
as his reception by the king apj)ears 
to have been, it was not followed by 
a fair reciprocity towards America. 
Peace had indeed been made, and the 
minister received, but Congress Avas 
honored by no British representative 
calling at her doors. The relations of 
the two countries Avere in fact yet of 
the most unsettled character ; questions 
of commercial intercoiu-se, of a restric- 
tive nature, were pressed against the 
Americans ; the Avestern posts Avere re- 
tained ; on the other hand, the unsettled 
relations of the States to one another at 
home, Avere at variance Avith a just and 
dignified foreign policy. After Aveather- 
ing for awhile these disheartening con- 
ditions, Adams, having rendered such 
services as he could to his country in a 
new loan negotiation Avith Holland and 
conferences Avith hia fellow-coimuis- 



sioner, Jefferson, at Paris, tired of the 
ineffwtual stniggle AN-ith difficulties and 
against })rejudice, at the close of 1787, 
requested hia recall. His time, hoAV- 
ever, had not been altogether taken up 
Avith these foreign affairs. His famous 
Avork, the " Defence of the Constitutions 
of Government of the United States of 
America," Avas produced at this period. 
It greAV out of some remarks by the 
Fi-ench philosopher, Turgot, on the 
Constitutions of the State in Avhich the 
adoption of English usages AA'as objected 
to, and preference given to a single 
authority of the nation or assembly 
over a balanced system of powers. 
Adams extended the AVork to three 
volumes, in Avhich he brought to bear 
upon the subject a vast amount of 
political reading, particidarly in refer- 
ence to the Italian Republics. The 
effect of this long discussion, like that 
of its sequel, the Discourses on Davila, 
is much Aveakened by its form, for 
Adams, Avith much sj)irit as a Avriter, is 
defective in his longer Avorks in manner 
and method. If his style of Avriting 
had been foimed in early life, like that 
of Franklin and ^Madison, upon the 
reading of the Spectator instead of the 
declamations of Bolingbroke, in so far 
as study can modify the genius of a 
man, his Avorks would have been better 
for the training. John Adams loses as 
much as Franklin gains by his way 
of putting a thing in his AATitings. 
The spring of 1788 restored him 
acrain to hia native land. It Avas the 
period of the adojition of the Federal 
Constitution, and a\ hen that instrument 
went fully into effect in the meeting of 
the first Congress at Ncav York, he was 



JOHN ADAMS. 



43 



found to he cliosen Vice-President, re- 
ceiving the gi'eatest number of votes of 
tlie electors next to Washington. He 
received thirty-four out of sixty-nine, 
the vote of Washincrton beins: unani- 
mous. He held this office, presiding in 
the Senate, during both teims of "Wash- 
ington's administration, to which he 
gave active and often important assist- 
ance. In 1*797, he succeeded to the 
Presidency by a vote of seventy-one 
over the sixty-eight of Jefferson. He 
found the country in imminent danger 
of a conflict with France. The prin- 
ciples of an English or French alliance 
were the tests of the j^arty politics of 
the times. Jay's Treaty, sanctioning 
the neutrality policy of Washington, 
had indeed been adopted by Congress, 
but after a straggle which left many 
elements of opposition. The full force 
of these was directed against the 
Federal party, of which Adams was 
now the official representative. He 
was destined to receive aid, however, 
from an unexpected quarter. The as- 
sumptions and aggressions of the 
French Directoiy, on the arrival of 
Marshall and Geny, as negotiators, 
develojied a new phase of villainy in a 
contemptuous effort to bribe the Ame- 
rican Commissioners. This insult at 
length opened the eyes and roused the 
spirit of the nation. Adams was for 
awhUe exceedingly poj)ular ; addresses 
were poured in upon him, the country 
armed, commissioned a na^y, Washing- 
ton was again called into the field, and 
with Hamilton at his side, arranged 
means of military defence. Thus far 
he was with the strong anti-Gallican 
Federal pai-tj. He was thought, how- 



ever, to fall off from it in some of his 
measures for reconciliation with France, 
which, however, by the turn which 
j)laced Napoleon in authority, had a 
successful issue ; some of the acts of his 
administration, as the Alien and Sedi- 
tion laws, were poweiful instrmnents 
with an unscrupulous opposition, and 
he had, moreover, to bear the disaffec- 
tion of Hamilton. There was little 
liberality or charity for defects of taste 
and temper. The embaiTassments aris- 
ing from these things clouded his 
administration, which closed with a 
single term, and the obstinate struggle 
which resulted in the election of Jeffer- 
son. A private affliction, in the loss 
of his second son, Charles, came also at 
this moment, to darken the shades of 
his retirement. He had no heart to 
■\\dtness the inaugnration of his suc- 
cessor, and left Washington abraptlj 
for Quincy. 

His biographer tells us, as an index 
of his privacy, that while the year 
before his letters could be counted by 
thousands, those of his first year after 
were scarcely a hundred. Like Jay's 
protracted age at Bedford, his was a long 
retirement, but Adams had not in his 
disposition the cjuietude of Jay. The 
restlessness, the activity of pm'suit 
which had driven the poor New Eng- 
land boy to the thrones of monarchs, 
and had seated him in the Presidency 
of the Republic, was not to subside 
without a mm-mm-. The old statesman 
enjoyed a vicarious public life in the 
rapid advancement of his son in the 
councils of his country to the Presi- 
dency; the irritations of controversy 
lent their aid to agitate the torpor of 



44 



JOHN ADAMS. 



political nogloot, in iLe series of letters 
viiulicatiug liis eourse, wliieli he ]>iili- 
lisbeil iu tlie "Boston Patriot;" while 
Le occasiomilly revived for himself and 
the eye of posterity, past scenes of his 
histor}- in an Autol)i(\<::ra|)hy. In 1818, 
in his eighty-third year, his wife, his 
" dearest friend," the gentle and ac- 
complished, one of the mothers of 
America, full of the sweetest and grand- 
est memories of the past, was taken 
from him. Ilis last public service was 
in occasional attendance at the Conven- 
tion of Massachusetts for the formation 
of a new Constitution, when he was 
eighty-live. lie ■was not ahle to say, 
but he made his wish known, that the 
new instrument should oqiress perfect 
religious tolerance. It was the liberal 
creed of his youth ; it had been grow- 
iniz strouiTcr with his aire. I\eturnin>' 
to his eai'ly friendship, he convsponded 
with JelTerson. The two venerable 
fathers of the Kepublie, Jefferson at the 
age of eighty-three, John Adams at 
that of ninety, died together on the 
birthday of the nation, Jidy 4tL, lS2t>. 
A few days before his death, the orator 
of his native town of Quiucy, where he 
lay in his home, called upon Adams for 
a toast, to be presented at the approach- 
ing auniversixry. " Independence for- 
ever !" was tht' reply. As the senti- 
ment was delivered at the bampiet, 
amidst ringing plaudits, the soul of the 
dying patriot was passing from earth 
to eternity. 

"We have brought the long and busy 
life to a close, from boyhood to four- 
score and ten. A nation has been bom 



in that time, and one of its foimdera, 
after reaching its sunnnit of authority, 
has seen his sou at its head. "We have 
the fullest revelations of this man. It 
was liis passion not only to bo em- 
jiloyed in great events, Init to write 
down the least of himself. "We have 
his books, learned tomes, his official and 
pei-sonal Corresjiondence, his Reminis- 
cences, his Diary, his Autol)iography, 
the domestic letters of his wife, lie 
was bent ujion declaring himself in 
eveiy form. AVhat is the impression ? 
Ujion the whole, of a man of active 
conscientious mind, emjiloyed from 
youth in study and thought ; diligent 
in affairs ; lacking some of the jutlicious 
lU'ts of the writer and statesman, which 
might have better set off his fair fiimo 
with the world. The fonnalive ])eriod 
of his life, his early professional train- 
ing, has a better lesson for the youth 
of his countiy than tliat of Franklin, 
for it has fewer errata. Egotism is 
sometimes ap])areiit, but it led him to 
know as well as proclaim himself. Ilis 
sensibility may occasionally be taken 
for vanity, but it is ofteuer the indica- 
tion of true feeling. Had he been 
more cautious, he might have possessed 
less hcai't. He had his Aveaknesses. 
Ho was passionate, we are told, but 
forgiving ; serious iu manner, but capa- 
ble of genial relaxation; of adisposiition 
answering to his friuue and look, with 
more of solidity than elevation ; some- 
thing of the sensual, relieved by a touch 
of humor, about him ; nothing of the 
idesilist : a broad, capacious head, capa- 
ble of assertion and action. 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



In his AutoTno.^apliy, written to- 
wards the close of his life, the author 
of the Declaration of Independence, 
thinking doubtless his new political 
career a better passport to fame with 
posterity than any conditions of an- 
cestry in the old society which lie had 
superseded, while he could not he in- 
sensible to the worth of a respectal)le 
family history, says of the Randolphs, 
from Avhom he was descended on the 
mother's side, "they trace their pedi- 
gree far back in England and Scotland, 
to which let every one ascribe the f:iith 
and merit he chooses." Whatever 
value may be set by his biographers 
upon an ancient lineage, they cannot 
'Overlook the fact — most important in 
its influence upon his future history — 
that he was introduced by his family 
relationshix)3 at birth into a sphere of 
life in Vii'ginia, which gave him many 
social advantages. The leveller of the 
old aristocracy was by no means a self- 
made man of the people, struggling up- 
ward through difficiilty and adversity. 
His father, Peter Jefferson, belonged to 
a family originally from Wales, which 
had been among the first settlers of the 
colony. In 1G19, one of the name was 
seated in the Assembly at Jamestown, 
the first legislative Vjody of Europeans, 
it is said, that ever met in the New 



World. The particular account of the 
fiunily begins with the grandfather of 
Thomas Jefferson, who owned some 
lands in Chestei-field County. His 
third son, Peter, establisheil himself aa 
a planter on certain lands which he had 
" patented," or come into possession of 
by purchase, in Albemarle County, in 
the vicinity of Carter's Mountain, whei'e 
the Ptivanua makes its way through the 
Range; and about the time of his 
settlement man-led Jane, daughter of 
Isham Randolph, of Dungeness, in 
Goochland County, of the eminent old 
Viriiinia race, to which allusion has 
already been made, a stock which has 
extended its branches through eveiy 
department of worth and excellence in 
the State. Isham Raudoljjh was a man 
of talent and education, as v.e\\ as 
noted for the hosj;)itarity practised by 
every gentleman of his wealthy posi- 
tion. Ills memory is gratefully pre- 
sei"ved in the correspondence of the 
naturalists, Collinson and Bartram. 
The latter was commended to his care 
in one of his scientific tours, and en- 
joyed his hearty welcome. Ills daugh- 
ter, Jane, we are told, "possessed a 
most amiable and affectionate dlsjjosi- 
tion, a lively, cheerful temper, and a 
great fund of humor," qualities which 
had their Infinence upon her son's char- 

45 



46 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



acter. Her raarriage to Peter Jefferson 
took jilace at the age of niiietei'ii, and 
tlie fruit of this uniou, tlie third child 
and fii-st son, was Thomas, the sulyect 
of this sketch. He was boru at the 
new family location at Shadwell, April 
2 (old stylo), 1743. 

Peter Jefferson, the father, was a 
model man for a frontier settlement, 
tall in stature, of extraordinary strength 
of l)ody, cajialjle of enduring any 
fatigue in the Anlderness, ^\•ith cor- 
responding health and vigor of mind. 
He was educated as a surveyor, and 
in this capacity engaged in a govern- 
ment commission to draw the Ixnindary 
line between Virginia and North Caro- 
lina. Two years before his death, 
which occuiTed suddenly in his fiftieth 
year, in I7r)7, he was chosen a member 
of the House of Burfjesses. His son 
was then only fourteen, but he had 
already derived many impressions from 
the instmctions and examjile of his 
father, aiid considerable resemblance is 
traced between them. Mr. llandall, in 
Lis biography, notices the inhoi-itance 
of physical strength, of a certain plain- 
ness of manners, and honest love of 
independence, even of a fondness for 
reading — for the stalwart sm-veyor Avas 
accustomed to solace his leisure with 
his Spectator and his Shakspeare. 

The son was early sent to school, and, 
before his father's death, was instructed 
in the elements of Greek, and Latin, 
and French, by Mr. Douglass, a Scottish 
clergyman. It was his jxarent's dying 
wish that he should receive a good 
classical education ; and the seed pi'ov- 
ed to be sown in a good sod. The les- 
sons which the youth had already re- 



ceived, were resumed under the excel- 
lent instruction of the Rev, Jamca 
Maury, at his residence, and thence, in 
17G0, the pupil passed to William and 
Mary College, lie was now in his 
eighteenth year, a tall, thin youth, of a 
rudd)'' conij)k'xion, his hair inclining 
to red, an adej)t in manly and rural 
sports, a good dancer, something of a 
musician, full of vivacity. It is worth 
noticing, that the youth of Jefferson 
Avas of a hearty, joyous character. 

Williamsburg, also, the seat of the 
college, was then anything but a scho- 
lastic hermitage for the mortification of 
youth. In winter, during the session 
of the court and the sittings of the 
colonial legislature, it Avas the focus of 
provincial fashion and gaiety ; and 
between study and dissipation the 
ardent young Jefferson had before him 
the old problem of good and evil not 
always leading to the choice of virtue. 
It is to the credit of his manly percep- 
tions and healthy tastes, even then, 
that while he freely partook of the 
amusements incidental to his station 
and time of life, he kept his eye stead- 
ily on loftier things. "It was my great 
good fortune," he says in his Autobio- 
graphy, " and what probably fixed the 
destinies of my life, that Dr. William 
Small, of Scotland, was then professor 
of mathematics, a man profound in 
most of the useful branches of science, 
with a happy talent of communication, 
correct and gentlemanly manners, and 
an enlarged and lil^eral mind." Hia 
instructions, communicated not only in 
college hours, but in familiar jiei-sonal 
intuuacy, warmed the yoimg student 
■with his first, as it became his constant, 



THOMAS JITPPERSON. 



47 



passion for natural science. This liappy 
instructor also gave a course of lec- 
tures in ethics and rhetoric, whicli were 
doubtless equally profitable to Ms 
young pupil in the opening of his 
mind to knowledge. He had also an 
especial fondness for mathematics, 
" reading oif its processes with the 
facility of common discourse." He 
sometimes studied, in his second year, 
fifteen hours a day, taking exercise in a 
brisk walk of a mile at evening. 

Jeflferson was only two years at 
college, but his education was happily 
continued in his immediate entrance 
upon the study of the law with George 
Wythe, the memorable chancellor of 
Virginia, of after days, to whom he 
was introduced by Dr. Small, and of 
whose personal qualities — his temper- 
ance and suavity, his logic and elo- 
quence, his disinterested public virtue 
— ^he wrote a worthy eidogium. The 
same learned friend also made him 
acquainted with Governor Fauquier, 
then in authority, " the ablest man," 
says Jefferson, " who ever filled the 
ofl5.ce." At his courtly table the foui* 
met together in familiar and liberal 
conversation. It was a privilege to 
the youth of the fii'st importance, 
bringing him, at the outset, into a 
sphere of public life which he was 
destined afterwards, in Europe and 
America, so greatly to adorn. He 
passed five years in the study of the 
law at Williamsbm'g, and, without 
intermitting his studies, at his home at 
Shadwell. Nor, diligent as he was, is 
it to be supposed that his time was 
altogether spent in study. He yet 
found leisui'e, as his early telltale cor- 



respondence with his friend Page, after- 
wards Governor of Virginia, shows, to 
harbor a fond attachment for a fair 
" Belinda," as he called her, reversing 
the letters of the name and writing 
them in Greek, or playing upon the 
word in Latin. The character of the 
young lady. Miss Rebecca Bui-well, of 
an excellent family, does credit to his 
attachment, for it was marked by its 
religious enthusiasm, but nothing came 
of it beyond a boyish disappointment.^ 
In IVGY he was introduced to the 
bar of the General Court of Virginia 
by his friend Mr, Wythe, and imme- 
diately entered on a successful career 
of jjractice, inteiTupted only by the 
lievolution. His memorandum books, 
which he kept minutely and diligently 
as Washington himself, show how 
extensively he was employed in these 
seven years; while the dii'ections which 
he gave in later life to young students, 
exhibit a standard of application, which 
he had no doubt followed himself, of 
the utmost proficiency. His "suflScient 
groundwork " for the study of the law 
includes a liberal coui'se of mathe- 
matics, natui'al jihilosophy, ethics, rhet- 
oric, politics, and history. His pur- 
suit of the science itself ascended 
to the antique foimts of the profes- 
sion. He was a well-trained, skill- 
ful lawyer, an adept in the casuis- 
try of legal questions — more distin- 
guished, however, for his ability in 



• Mr. John Eaten Cooke, of Virginia, author of the 
eminently judicious biography of Jefferson in Appleton'a 
new Cyclopjedia, has sketched this love affair in a plea- 
sant paper on the " Early years of Thomas Jefl'erson." 
The "Page" correspondence is printed in Professor 
Tucker's life of Jefferson. 



48 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



fti^iraent than for his power as an 
advocate. IIo was tlirougliout life 
little of an orator, and we shall iind 
hiiu hereafter, in scenes where elo- 
quence was peculiarly felt, more power- 
ful in the committee i-oom than in 
debate. 

His first entrance on politicjJ life 
was at the age of twenty-six, in 17G9, 
when 111' was sent to the House of 
Burges.>*es from the county of Albe- 
marle, the entrance on a troul)h)UH time 
in the consideration of national griev- 
ances, and we find him engaged at once 
in preparing the resolutions and adcbess 
U^ the irovernor's messaire. Tlu' House, 
in reply to the recent declarations of 
Parliament, reasserted the American 
principles of taxation and petition, and 
other questions in jeopanly, and, in 
consetpience, was pi"omptly dissolved 
by Lord Botetourt. The members, the 
next day, George Washington among 
them, met at the Ealeigh tavern, and 
pledged themselves to a non-importa- 
tion agreement. 

The next yeai*, on the conflagration 
of the house at Shadwell, where he 
had his home with his mother, he took 
up his residence at the adjacent "^lonti- 
ct'llo," also on his own paternal grounds, 
in a portion of the edifice so fmnous 
afterwards as the dwelling-place of his 
matmvr ye^u-s. Unhappily, many of 
his early papei"s, his books and those of 
his father, were burnt in the destruc- 
tion of his old home. In 1772, on New 
Year's Day, he took a step farther in 
domestic life, in marriage with Mrs. 
Martha Skelton, a widow of twenty- 
three, of much beauty and many win- 
ning accomplishments, the daughter of 



John Wayles, a lawj'er of skill and 
many good qualities, at whose death, 
the following year, the pair came into 
possession of a considerable projierty. 
In this circumstance, and in the manage- 
ment of his landed estate, we may 
trace a certain resemblance in the for- 
tunes of the occupants of Monticello 
and Mount Vernon. 

Political afl'airs were now again call- 
ins; for lesrislative attention. The re- 
newed claim of the British to send 
persons for state olVences to England, 
brought forwaitl in Ehode Island, 
awakened a strong feeling of resistance 
among the Vii'ginia delegates, a portion 
of whom, inchuliug Jetlerson, met at 
the Ealeigh Tavern, and drew up reso- 
lutions creating a Committee of Coitc- 
sj)ondence to watch the proceedings of 
Parliament, and keej) up a communica- 
tion with the Colonies. Jell'ersou was 
appointed to oiler the resolutions in 
the House, but declined in favor of his 
brother-in-law, Dabney Can*. They 
were passed, and a committee — all 
notable men of the Revolution — was 
appointed, including Pe}i:on Randolph, 
Richard Henry Lee, Patrick Henry, and 
others, ending with Thomas Jellerson. 
The Earl of Duumore then, following 
the example of his predecessor, dis- 
solved the House, 

"We may here ]>ause, with ^Mr. Jeffer- 
son's latest biogra2)her, to notice the 
friendship of Jetlei-son with CaiT. It 
belonged to their school-boy days, and 
had gained strength during their jieriod 
of legal study, when they had kept 
company together in the shades of 
Monticello, and made nature the com- 
panion of their thoughts. They had 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



49 



tLcir fiivorito rustic seat tliere beneath 
an oak, and there, each promised the 
other he would buiy tlie survivor. 
Tlie time soon came, a month after the 
scene at the Rahiiifli Tavern we have 
just narrated, when Can*, at the age of 
thirty, was fatally stricken hy fever. 
The friends now rest together in the 
spot where their youthful summer days 
were passed. CaiT had been eight 
years married to Jefferson's sister, and 
he left her with a family of si.x children. 
His ])rothcr-in-law took them all to his 
home. The sous, Peter and Dabney, 
who rose high in the Virginia judiciary, 
have an honored place in the Jefferson 
Correspondence, calling forth many of 
the statesmen's best letters. The whole 
family was educated and provided for 
by him ; and here again, in these 
adopted children, we may recognize a 
re8em?)lance to Mount Vernon with its 
young Custises. 

The new Legislature met, as usual, 
the next year, and, roused by the pas- 
sage of the Boston Port Bill, a few 
members, says Jeffei'son, including 
Henry and himself, resolved to place 
the Assembly " in the line with Massa- 
chusetts." The expedient they hit upon 
was a fast day, which, by the help of 
some old Puritan precedents, they 
" cooked up " and placed in the hands 
of a grave member to lay before the 
House. It was passed, and the Gover- 
nor, "as usual," dissolved the Assembly. 
The fast was apj)ointed for th(i first of 
June, the day on which the obnoxious 
bill was to take efl'ect, and there was 
one man in Virginia, at least, who kept 
it. We may read in the Diary of 
George Washington, of that date, 
7 



" Went to church, and fasted all 
day."' 

Tlie dissolved Assembly again met 
at the lialeigh, and decided upon a 
Convention, to be elected by the people 
of the several counties, and held at 
Williamsburg, so that two bodies had 
to be chosen, one to assemble in the 
new House of Burgesses, the other out 
of the reach of government control. 
The same members, those of the pre- 
vious House, were sent for both. Jef- 
ferson again represented the freeholders 
of Alljemarle. The insti-uctions which 
the county gave, supposed from his pen, 
assert the radical doctrine of the inde- 
pendence of the Colonial Legislatures, 
as the sole fount of authority in new 
laws. The Williamsburg Convention 
met and apj^ointed delegates to the 
first General Congress. JefTei'son was 
detained from the Assembly by illness, 
but he forwarded a draught of instruc- 
tions for the delegates, which was not 
adopted, but ordered to be printed by 
the members. It bore the title, "A 
Summary View of the Rights of British 
America," reached England, \vas taken 
up by the opposition, and, with some 
interpolations from Burke, passed 
through several editions." Though in 



' Mrs. Kirkland's Meraoira of Washington, p. 220. 

' Tlio pamphlet took the ground, that the relation be- 
tween Great Britain and her Colonics was exactly the 
same as that of England and Scotland after tlie accession 
of James, and until tlie Union, or as Hanover then stood, 
linked onlv by the crown. An illustration was also drawn 
from the Saxon settlement of Britain, " that mother coun- 
try " never having asserted any claim of authority over 
her emigrants. The trading and manufacturing repres- 
sions of England in particular were dwelt upon, with 
other pertinent topics of reform. The whole was ex- 
pressed in terse and pointed language. He would remind 
George III. that " Kings are the servants, not the propri- 



50 



THOMAS JEFFERSON". 



advance of the jiulgment of the people, 
who are slow in coming \ip to the prin- 
ciples of great refonus, thia " View " 
\mdoul)teclly assisted to form that 
judgment. But so slow was the pro- 
gress of opinion at the outset, that, at 
the moment when this jiajjer was -\\Tit- 
ten, only a few leaders, such as Samuel 
Adams and Patrick Ileniy, were capa- 
ble of appreciating it. A few years 
afterwards, and it would have been ac- 
cepted as a truism. The country was not 
yet ready to receive its virtual Decla- 
ration of Independence. The people 
had to be pricked on by fui-ther out- 
rages. Theoretical rebellion they had 
no eye for ; they must feel to be con- 
vinced. Jeflerson's paper was in ad- 
vance of them, by the boldness of its 
historical positions, and the plainness 
of its language to His Majesty — yet its 
aiTay of grievances must have enlight- 
ened many minds. 

The Congress of 111 i met but adopt- 
ed milder forms of petition, better 
adapted to the moderation of their 
sentiments. Meanwhile committees of 
safety ai'e organizing in Virginia, and 
Jefferson heads the list in his county. 
He is also in the second Virginia 
Convention at Eichmond, listening to 
Patrick Henry's ardent appeal to the 
God' of Battles — " I repeat it, sir, we 
must fight!" The Assembly adopted 
the view so far as preparing means of 
defence, and that the students of events 
in ^Massachusetts began to think meant 
war. The delegates to the first Con- 
gress were elected to the second, and 



ctors of the people." " The whole nrt of government," 
lie maiolAiu:), " consitils iu the u I of beiug honesL" 



in case Peyton Randolph should be 
called to ]>reside over the House of 
Burgesses, Thomas Jcllcrson was to be 
his successor at Pliiladeljihia. The 
House met, Randolph was elected, and 
Jefterson departed to fill his place, liear- 
m<X with him to Concrress the s])i!-ited 
Resolutions of the Assembly, which he 
had ^vritten and driven through, in 
i"ej)ly to the conciliatory propositions 
of Loid North. It was a characteristic 
introduction, immediately followed up 
by his aj)j)ointment on the committee 
charged to prepare a declaration of the 
causes of taking up arms. Congress 
having just chosen Washington Com- 
mander-in-Chief of a national army. 
He was associated in this task with 
John Dickinson, to whose timidity and 
caution, respected as they were by his 
fellow members, he defeiTed in the 
report, in \\hlch, however, a few ring- 
ing sentences of Jeflerson are readily 
distinguishable, among them the famous 
watchwords of political struggle — " Our 
cause is just ; oui* union is perfect." 
" With hearts," the document proceeds, 
"fortified with these animating affec- 
tions, we most solemnly, before God 
and the world, declare, that, exerting 
the utmost energy of those ]iowei-3 
which our beneficent Creator hath gra- 
ciously bestowed upon us, the arms 
which we have been compelled by our 
enemies to assume, Ave will, in defiance 
of every hazard, with unabated firm- 
ness and perseverance, emjdoy for the 
preservation of our liberties, being 
Avith one mind resolved to die freemen 
rather than to live slaves." 

This was the era of masterly state 
papers; and talent iu composition was 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



51 



in demand. The reputation of Jeffer- 
son in this line had preceded him, in 
the ability of his "Summary View," 
presented to the Virginia Convention, 
and was confirmed by his presence. 
Nearly a year passed — a year commenc- 
ing with Lexington and Bunker Hill, 
and including the military scenes of 
Washington's command around Boston, 
before Congress was fully ready^o pro- 
nounce its final Declaration of Inde- 
pendence. When the time came, Jef- 
ferson was acrain a member of that 
body. The famous Resolutions of In- 
dependence, in accordance with pre- 
vious instructions from Virginia, were 
moved by Richard Henry Lee, on the 
seventh of June. They were debated 
in committee of the whole, and jjending 
the deliberations, not to lose time, a 
special committee was appointed by 
ballot on the eleventh, to prepare a 
Declai"ation of Independence. Jeffer- 
son had the highest vote, and stood at 
the head of the committee, with John 
Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sher- 
man, and Robert R. Livingston. The 
preparation of the instrument was en- 
trusted to Jefl^erson. " The committee 
desii'ed me to do it, it was accordingly 
done," says his Autol>iography. The 
draft thus prejiared, with a few verbal 
corrections from Franklin and Adams, 
was submitted to the House on the 
twenty-eightk On the second of July, 
it was taken up in debate, and ear- 
nestly battled for three days, when on 
the evenino; of the last — the evei"- 
memorable foui'th of July — it was 
finally reported, agreed to, and signed 
by every member exce])t Mr. Dickinson. 
Some alterations were made in the 



original draft — a phrase, here and there, 
which seemed superfluous, was loj^ped 
off; the King of Great Britain was 
spared some additional severities, and a 
stirring passage arraigning his Majesty 
for his complicity in the slave trade 
then carried on, a " jiiratical wai-fare, 
the opprobrium of infidel powers," was 
entirely exscinded — the denunciation 
beina; thought to strike at home as well 
as abroad. The people of England 
were also relieved of the censure cast 
upon them for electing tyrannical Par- 
liaments. With these omissions, the 
paper stands substantially as first re- 
ported by Jefferson. It is intimately 
related to his previous resolutions and 
repoi'ts in Virginia and Congress, and 
whatever merit may be attached to it, 
alike in its spirit and language, belongs 
to him. 

Mr. Jefferson was elected to the next 
session of Congress ; but, pleading the 
state of his family affair's, and desii'ous 
of taking part in the formative mea» 
sures of government now arising in 
Virginia, he was permitted to resign. 
He declined, also, immediately after, an 
aj^pointment by Congress as fellow- 
minister to France with Dr. Franklin. 
In October, he took his seat in the Vir- 
ginia House of Delegates, and com- 
menced those efforts of reform with 
which his name will always be identi- 
fied in his native State, and which did 
not end till its social condition was 
thoroughly revolutionized. His fiirst 
great blow was the introduction of a 
bill abolishing entails, which, with one 
subsequently brought in, cutting off 
the right of primogeniture, levelled the 
great landed aristocracy which had 



62 



THOMAS .TFI IKRSON. 



hitherto govcrnod in the country. He 
was also, about the time ot'tlie i)assage 
of this aot, eivateil one of the committee 
for the general revision of the laws, his 
active associates lieiiiir Edmund Pen- 
dleton and George Wythe. This vast 
work >vaa not comj)letod by the com- 
mittee till June, 1770, an interval of 
more than two years. Among the one 
hundred and si.xteen new bills rejx)rted, 
j>erhaj»s the most important was one, 
the work of JelTei-son, that for Esta- 
blishing Keligioua Freedom, which 
abolished tythes, and left all men free 
" to profess, and by ai"gumeut to main- 
tain, their oj)lnions in matters of reli- 
gion, and that the same shall in no wise 
diminish, enhwge, or all'ect their civil 
ca]>acitics." A concurrent act ])rovided 
for the preservation of the glel>e lands 
to church mcnd)ers. Jeflersou was not, 
therefore, in this instance the originator 
of the after sj>oliation of tlie ecclesiasti- 
cal iii-oiH'i-ty. Of this matter Jlr. Ran- 
dall says: "Whether Mr. Jefferson 
changed his mind, and kept np Avith 
the demands (>f poj)ular feeling in that 
])artii\dar, we have no means of know- 
ing. We remember uo utterance of his 
on that subject, after reporting the bills 
we have described."* Another impor- 
tant subject fell to his charge in the 
Btatutes affecting education. lie pro- 
posed a system of free common school 
education, planned in tlie minutest de- 
tails ; a method of reorganization i'or 
AVilliam and !Mary College, and j)ri.>- 
vision lt)r a froo State Library. There 
•was also ;i liill limiting the death pen- 
alty to murder and treason. In his 

' Lite of/cSenoa, I. 838, 



account of the reception of this " Re- 
vision," Mr. Jefft-rson records : " Some 
bills were taken out, occasionally, from 
time to time, and ])a.ssed ; but the main 
body of the WH)ik was not enteicd on 
by the Legislature until after the gene- 
ral peace, in 1785, when, by the un- 
weaiied exertions of Mr. Madison, in 
o])position to the endless (piil)bles, 
chicaiTeries, perversions, vexations, and 
delays of law-3i'rs and demilawyers, 
most of the bills were passed by the 
Legislature, with little alteration." 

In 177i>, j\Ir. Jellei-son succeeded 
Patrick Henry as Governor of Virginia, 
falling upon a period of administration 
reiiuiring the military defence of the 
State, less suited to his talents than the 
reformini' leirislatit>n in which he had 
been recently engaged. Indeeil, he 
modestly confesses this in the few words 
he devtvtes to the sid)ject in his Auto- 
biogia})hy, A\'here he sa}s, referring to 
history for tJiis jx>rtion of liis career : 
" From a belief that, under the pressmt? 
of the invasion imiler which we were 
then laboring, the ])ublic wimld have 
more conlidence in a military chief, and 
that the military connnander, being 
invested with the civil jiower also, both 
might be wielded with more energy, 
pronjptitude and etVect for the defence 
of the State, I resigned the administra- 
tion at the end of my second yeai", and 
General Nelson was appointeil to suc- 
cei'd me." His disposition to the arts 
of jx'ace, in mitigation of the calamities 
of war, had been ])reviously sho>vn in 
his treatment of the Saratoga prisonei-s 
of war, who were (juartered in his 
neighborhood, near Charlottesville. 
Jle added to the comforts of the men, 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



63 



and eirtertaiued the officers at Lis table, 
and wlien it was proposed to remove 
them to less advantageous quarters, he 
remonstrated with Governor Ileniy in 
their favor. The eai'ly part of Jefter- 
Bon's administration was occupied with 
various duties connected with the war, 
and it was only at the end, in the inva- 
sions hj Arnold and Phillips, in 1780, 
that he felt its pressure. When Eieh- 
mond was invaded and plundered, he 
was obliged to reconnoitre the attack, 
in his movements about the vicinity, 
without ability of resistance. The 
finances and resources of defence of the 
State were in the most lamentalde con- 
dition, and it remains a question for the 
historian to conjecture what degree of 
military energy, in a Governor, would 
have l)een effectual to create an army 
on the spur of the moment, and extort 
means for its support. The depreda- 
tions of Arnold continued till the arri- 
val of Cornwallis, and before his exit 
from the scene of these operations at 
Yorktown, an incident occurred which 
has been sometimes told to Jefferson's 
disadvantage, though without any ap- 
parent i-eason. The famous Colonel 
Tarleton, celebrated for the rapidity of 
his movements, was dispatched to 
secure the members of the Legislature, 
then assembled at Charlottesville. 
Warning was given, and the honorable 
gentlemen escaped, when it Avas pro- 
posed to capture the Governor at his 
neighboring residence at Monticello. 
He however, also had intelligence, per- 
ceiving the approach of the enemy 
from his mountain height, and sending 
his wife and chikben in advance to a 
place of safety, rode off himself as the 



troopers approached to Carter's Moun- 
tain. At this time his tenn of service 
as Governor had expii-ed a few days. 
Happily, the officer who thus visited 
his house was a gentleman, and his 
papers, books, and other property, were 
spared. His estate at Elk Hill, on 
James Eiver, did not fare so well. Its 
crops were destroyed, its stock taken, 
and the slaves driven off to perish, 
almost to a man, of fever and suffering 
in the British camp. 

Losses like these he could bear with 
equanimity ; not so the inquiiy which 
received some countenance from the 
legislature into his conduct during the 
invasion. He was grieved that such 
an implied censure should be even 
thought of, and prepared himself to 
meet it in person ; Init when he pre- 
sented himself at the next session, con- 
senting to an election for the express 
purpose, there was no one to oppose 
him, and resolutions of respect and con- 
fidence took the place of the threatened 
attack. He had another cause of 
despondence at this time, which no act 
of the le2;islature could cure. His wife, 
to whom he was always tenderly at- 
tached, was daily groAving more feeble 
in health, and gradually approaching 
her grave. She died in September, 
1Y82 — "torn from him by death," is 
the expressive language he placed on 
her simple monument. 

The illness of his wife had prevented 
his acceptance of an appointment in 
Europe, to negotiate terms of peace 
immediately after the termination of 
his duties as governoi\ A similar office 
was now tendered him — the third prof- 
fer of the kind by Congress— and, look 



64 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



ing upon it as a relief to his distracted 
mind as well as a <liity to tlie State, lu; 
accepted it. Before, however, the pre- 
j)arati(»ns for his dcimrliirc were eoiii- 
j>U'(e, arising from tlie (litliculties then 
e.\istln<; of crossincj the ocean, intelli- 
genco was received of the jirogress of 
the peace negotiations, ami (he voyage 
was al)andonod. 

He was thi'ii i-etuined to Confess, 
taking his seat iu Noveraher, 1783, at 
Trenton, the day of the adjournment to 
Annapolis, where one of his first duties, 
the following month, was as chairman 
of the Committee which jjrovided the 
arrangements for the reception of Wash- 
ington on Ins resignation of his com- 
nianiL Tlie ceri'mouy tot)lv ])hK'e in 
puhlic, " the re])rcsentatives of the 
sovereignty of the Union" remaining 
seated and covered ^vhill• the company 
in the gallery were standing and un- 
covered. After Wasliiiigtoirs address 
and delivery of his commission, the 
President replii'il in an answer attri- 
buted to Jetferson.* Eulogy of Wash- 
ington always fell ha])pily from his 
pen. " Having defended the standard 
of liberty in this new world," Avas one 
of its sentences: " havincr tausrht a 
lesson useful to those who intlict and 
those who feel o])i)ression, you retire 
from the great theatre of action with 
the blessings of your fellow-citizens: 
but the glory of your virtues will not 
terminate with your military com- 
mand; it will continue to animate re- 
motest ages." Jelferson was accustomed 
to speak of Washington with eloquence 
nnd admiration, sullciing no political 

> RukUD's XMe of JrlTrraon, I. 392. 



disagreements to diminish his historic 
greatness. Probably the best character 
ever drawn of the Father of his Couutiy, 
was written by him, in a letter from 
IMonticello, addressed to Dr. Walter 
Jones, in 1814. 

The presence of Jefl'erson in any 
legislative body was always soon felt, 
and we accordingly find him in the 
Congress of 1781, making his mark in 
the debates on the ratification of the 
treaty of peace, his suggestions on the 
establishment of a money unit and a 
national coinage, which were subse- 
(jueiitly ado])ted — he gave ns the deci- 
mal system and the denomination of 
the cent ; the cession of the North- 
western Territory by Virginia, with his 
report for its government, jiroposing 
names for its new States, and the ex- 
clusion of slavery after the year 1800: 
and taking an active part iu the ar- 
rangements for commercial treaties with 
foreign nations. In the last, he was 
destined to be an actor as well as 
designer — Congress, on the seventh of 
May, ajipointing him to act in Europe 
with Adams and Franklin, in accom- 
])llshiiig these negotiations. This time 
he was enabled to enter upon the scene 
abroad, which had always invited his 
imagination by its prosj)ects of new 
observations in art and science, society 
and government, and intimacy with 
learned and distlniiulshed iiu'ii. A 
visit to Europe to an ordinary Ameri- 
can in those days, was like passing from 
a school to a university; but Jell'ersou, 
thouirh he found the means of know- 
ledge unfailing wherever he went, being 
no ordinary man but a very extraordi- 
nary one, carried with him to Europe 



i 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



55 



more than he could receive there. In 
the science of government he was tlie 
instructor of the most learned ; and, in 
that matter, the relations of the old 
world and the new were reversed. 
America, even then, with much to learn 
before her system was perfected, was the 
educator of Europe. 

Jefferson took with him his oldest 
daughter, Martha — his family consist- 
ing, since the death of his wife, of 
three youBg daughters and the adopted 
childreu" of his friend, Carr — with 
whom he reached Paris, by the way of 
England, in August. There he found 
Dr. Franklin, with whom he entered 
on the duties of his mission, and 
whose ftiendship he experienced in an 
introduction to the brilliant philosophi- 
cal society of the cajiital. His position, 
also, at the outset, was nuich strength- 
ened with these eavans by a small 
edition which he printed and privately 
circulated of his " Notes on Virginia." 
This work had for some time existed 
in manuscript, having been wi'itten 
in Virginia, in 1781, during a period 
of confinement, when he was disal)led 
from active exertion in consequence of 
a fall from his horse, in r(;j)]y to certain 
queries which had been addressed to 
him by the French minister, M. Marbois, 
who had been instructed by his govern- 
ment to procure various statistical in- 
formation in regard to the country. As 
it had always been a custom of Jeffer- 
son to note everything that came to his 
knowledge relating to topics of national 
welfare, it was an easy task to supply 
the required answers from his note- 
books. In this way, the " Notes " were 
written and communicated to the 



minister ; and, as these queries were 
of constant recun-ence, relating, as they 
did, to a new state of things wliich 
provoked inipiby, the author kept a 
copy of the x'ej^lies for his own use and 
for that of his friends. He would have 
pi-inted the little work in America, but 
was deterred by the expense. Finding 
this could be done at a fourth of the 
cost in Paris, he now carried the inten- 
tion out. The volume was (iarefully 
distributed — the writer thinking its 
opinions on the suljject of slavery and 
of the American Constitution might 
in-itate the minds of his countrymen — ■ 
but a year or two later, a copy, on the 
death of its owner, got into the hands 
of a bookselhir, who caused it to be 
hastily translated by the Abb6 Morel- 
let, into French, and in this state sent 
it to Jefl'ei'son on the eve of puldica- 
tion. He could correct only its worst 
blunders, and the work being now 
before the world, he thought it but an 
act of justice to himself to yield to the 
request of a London puljlishcr, to issue 
This is the history of the 
The book 

itself, as a valuable original contriliu- 
tion to the kaowlcMlge of an interesting 
portion of the country, at a transition 
period, has been always treasured. Its 
observations on natural history, and de- 
scriptions of scenery, are of value ; it 
has much which Avould now be called 
ethnological, particularly in reference 
to the Indian and the black man; 
while, in style and ti-eatment, it may 
be studied as a sucr2restive index of the 
mind and tastes of the author. 

In the summer of 1785, Dr. Frank- 
lin took his departiu*e homeward, retir- 



the original 

famous " Notes on Virginia." 



66 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



ing from tlio ombassy he had so long 
antl honorably filled, and Ji-flVrson 
roniaini'd as liis sucoessor. lln was 
four yoars in this position, covering the 
important opening era of the Revolu- 
tion, including tho assembly of the 
States General, of all the movements 
connected with which he was a diligent 
observer and friendly sympathizer with 
the reforniers. His official duties 
embraced various regulations of trade 
and commerce, the admission of Ameri- 
can products into France on favorable 
terms ; a fruitless attempt ■with Adams 
at neijotiations vr\i\i Ensrland, which 
left an imfavorable impressit)n of the 
mother country on his mind, and the 
consideration of the Barbary <piestion, 
for which he proposed, as a remedy to 
the constant aggressions, active naval 
coercion. His private correspondence, 
during this residence abroad, is of the 
most interesting character. It is not 
merely well written, with the accuracy 
of a mind accustomed to reflection, but 
its topics have, for the most part, an 
historic value. It is in turn political, 
scientific, philosophical, or moral, as it 
is adtb'cssed to Washington, Jay, IMadi- 
son, with whom he keeps up his ideas 
on American state development;? ; John 
Adams ; the astronomer Rittenhouse ; 
the ingenious Francis Ilojikinson; his 
nej)hew, Peter Carr; or his lady friends, 
Mrs. Cosway, and Mrs. Bingham. To 
Carr, he lays doAni a codt' of ])recepts, 
in which we may read the reflection of 
his o^vn life. " Give up money, give 
\ip fame," he WTites, "give uj) science, 
give up the earth itself and all it con- 
tains, rather than do an inunoral act. 
. . . An honest heart beinff the fu'st 



blessing, a knowing head is the second. 
. . . A strong body makes the mind 
strong." 

A toui' which he j)eiformed in the 
provinces of France, and \vhicli was 
extended into northern Italy, was 
made as subservient to his friends as 
to his own interest. It was his humor 
on this journey to study the ways and 
habits of the common people, and he 
took as great delight in rambling 
through the fields with the peasantry 
and inspecting their cottages, as in 
visiting palaces and churches. He 
advised Lafoyette to travel in his jiath, 
"and to do it effectually," he «Tote, 
"you must l)e absolutt;ly incognito; you 
must ferret the peo])le out of their 
hovels, as I have done, look into their 
kettles, eat their* bread, loll on their 
l)eds, under pretence of resting your- 
self, but in fact to find if they arc soft. 
You will feel a sublime pleasure in the 
course of this investigation, and a sub- 
limer one hereafter, when you shall be 
able to apj>ly your knowledge to the 
softenincr of their beds, or the throwing 
a morsel of meat into their kettle of 
vegetables." 

The return of Jefferson to the United 
States In the autumn of 1780, grew out 
of his desire to restore his daughters — a 
second one had joined him in Em'ope, 
the third died during his absence — to 
education in America, and to look after 
his private aftairs. A leave of absence 
was accordingly gi'anted him, with the 
expectation of a return to the French 
capital. Before reach 1 ng home, he found 
a letter from President "NVasliiugton 
awaiting him, tendering him the oflice 
of Secretary of State in the new govern- 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



57 



ment. The proposition was received 
with manifest reluctance, hut with a 
candid reference to the will of the Presi- 
dent. The latter smoothed the way, 
by representing the duties of the office 
as less laborious than had been con- 
ceived, and it was accepted. At the 
end of March, 1790, he joined the 
other membei'S of the administration at 
New York. Then began that separa- 
tion in politics, which, gradually rising 
to the dignity of party organization, 
])ecame known as Federalism and Re- 
puljlicanism. At the present day, it is 
difficult to appreciate the state of Jef- 
ferson's mind towards Hamilton and 
other members of the administration ; 
his distrust of their movements, and 
apparently fixed belief that some mon- 
archical designs were entei-tained by 
them. If there were any offenders in 
this way, they were Hamilton and Jay ; 
but it is difficult to credit that either 
of them entertained any serious inten- 
tions of the kind, however naturally 
they might disti-ust theories of self- 
government. In fact, there were "fears 
of the brave," if not "follies of the 
wise," on both sides. Each party had 
much to learn, which experience in the 
practical working of the government 
only could teach. It was easy then to 
exaggerate trifles, as it is unprofitable 
now, in the face of broad results, to 
revive them. There was a jjractical 
question also before Congress, which 
seems to have affected the equani- 
mity of Jefferson, that namely of the 
assumption of the State debts. Hamil- 
ton was the advocate of this measure, 
which met Avith serious opposition. 
Jeffei'son was inclined to oppose it, as 
8 



an addition to the financial power of 
the Secretary of the Treasury; which 
rose in his eyes as an evil of still greater 
magnitude when Hamilton's proposi- 
tion came up of a national bank. This 
institution, in his distrust of paper 
money, he considered a fountain of de- 
moralization. To these causes of sepa- 
ration in opinion was in no long time 
added the pregnant controversy of 
the good or evU, the wisdom or folly 
of the French Revolution, dramng with 
it a train of conduct at home, when the 
neutrality question became the subject 
of practical discussion. Jefferson ia 
thought to have lent some suppoi't to 
the annoyances of the time tmder which 
Washington suffered, in his patronage 
of the poet Freneau, who irritated the 
President by sending him his news- 
pap)er filled with attacks on the sup- 
posed monarchical tendencies of the 
day. When the insolence, however, of 
Genet and his advocates reached its 
height, the case was so clear that Jeffer- 
son employed himself in his office in 
the State Department in the most vigor- 
ous protests and denunciation. What- 
ever opinions he might entertain of 
men or measures, on a question of 
practical conduct, he regarded only the 
honor and welfare of his countiy. He 
retired at the end of 1793, with the 
friendship and respect of Washington 
unljroken. The jjubllc questions which 
arose during his secretaryship, which 
we have alluded to, though the noisiest 
on the page of hlstoiy, are perhaps not 
the most significant of Jefferson's career. 
His services, in many laborious matters 
of investigation and negotiation, were 
constant ; with England, in regard to 



58 



THOMAS JEFPBRSON. 



conditions o£ the treaty of peace; with 
Spain, in reference to her chiiras at the 
South, and the navigation of the Mis- 
sissippi — a question Avhich he was so 
happily to bring to a tcnuination in 
his Presidential administration ; at 
home, in his efforts for trade and com- 
merce, exhibited in his various indus- 
trial reports. 

The simplicity of his retirement at 
INIonticello has been questioned by 
those who have been accustomed to 
look upon the man too exclusively in 
the light of a politician ; but the evi- 
dence brought fonvard by his latest 
biograj)her, ]\Ir. Randall, shows that 
the passion, while it lasted, was genu- 
ine. Jefferson, with all his coolness 
and external command, had a peculiar 
sensitiveness. In fact, it is only a super- 
ficial view of his character which could 
overlook this element lying beneath. 
A speculative moralist must feel as well 
as think, and the world can no more 
get such reflections on life and conduct 
— whatever we may think of their ab- 
solute value — as are thickly sown in 
his MTitings, -without inner emotion, 
than fiiiit can be gathered without the 
delicate organization of the plant which 
bears it. Such grapes are not plucked 
from thorns. In Jefferson's heart there 
was a fund of sensiljility, freely ex- 
hibited in his private intercourse with 
his family. lie was unwearied in the 
cares and solicitudes of his daughters, 
his adopted children, and their alli- 
ances. In reading the letters which 
passed between them, the politician is 
forgotten : we see only the man and 
the father. Besides these pleasing aux- 
ieties, he hud the responsibilities and 



resources of several considerable plan- 
tations; his five thousand acres about 
INIonticello alone, as he managed them 
with their novel iiu])rovements and 
home manufacturing operations, afford- 
ing occupation enough for a single 
mind. He had, too, his l)ooks and 
favoi'ite studies in science and literature. 
There were, probably, few i)ublic men 
in the country who like him read the 
Greek di'amatists in the original Anth 
pleasm'e. What wonder, then, that he 
honestly sought retirement from the 
labors and struggles of political life, 
becoming every day more embittered 
by the rising s])irit of j)arty ? That 
the retirement was really sueh, we have 
the best jiroof in an incidental remaik 
in one of his letters wj'itten in 1802 — 
the recluse was at the time in the Presi- 
dency — to his daughter ]\Iaria, then 
married to Mr. Eppes. Fancying he 
saw in her a reluctance to society, he 
rebukes the feeling, adding, "I can 
speak from experience on this subject. 
From 1793 to 1707, I remained closely 
at home, saw none l)ut those who came 
there, and at length became very sen- 
sible of the ill effect it had ujwn my 
own mind, and of its direct and iire- 
sistible tendency to render me unfit for 
society and imeasy when necessarily 
engaged in it. I felt enough of the 
effect of withtlrawing from the world 
then, to see that it led to an anti-social 
and misanthropic state of mind, which 
severely punishes him who gives into 
it ; and it will be a lesson I shall never 
forget as to myself" But the law of Jef- 
ferson's mind was activity, and it was no 
long time before he mingled again in 
the political arena. His first decided 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



59 



symptom of returning animation is 
found by lais biographer in Ms subscrip- 
tion, at the close of 1795, to "Baclie's 
Aurora." He was no lono-er content 
with "his solitaiy Richmond news- 
paper." After this, there is no more 
thorough "working politician" in the 
countiy than Thomas Jefferson.^ 

It is not necessaiy here to trace his 
influence on eveiy j^assing event. We 
may proceed rapidly to his reappear- 
ance in public life as Vice-President in 
1797, on the election of John Adams, 
soon followed by the storm of party, 
attendant upon the obnoxious measures 
of the President in the Alien and 
Sedition Laws, the rapid disintegration 
of the Federal party and the rise of the 
Republicans. Out of the stormy con- 
flict, Jefferson, at the next election, was 
elevated to the Presidency. The vote 
stood seventy-three alike for himself 
and Burr, and sixty-five and sixty-four 
respectively for ]VIi\ Adams and Mr. 
Pinckney. As the Presidency was then 
given to the one who had the highest 
vote and the Vice-Presidency to the one 
next below him, neither being named 
for the offices, this equality threw the 
election into the House of Representa- 
tives. A close contest then ensued 
between Jefferson and Burr for the 
Presidency, which was protracted for 
six days and thirty-six ballotings, when 



' The close of his retirement was marked by au honor 
which he valued, his election as President of the American 
Philosophical Society. In his letter of acceptance, always 
mindful of his practic.il democracy, he wrote, " I feci no 
qualification for this distinguished post, but a sincere zeal 
for all the objects of our institution, and an ardent desire 
to see knowledge so disseminated through the mass of 
mankind, that it may at length reach the extremes of 
BOcicty, beggars and kings." 



the former was chosen by ten out of the 

sixteen votes of the States. 

His Inaugui'al Address was an ap- 
peal for harmony. After a brief sketch 
in vivid language, of which no one had 
a better mastery, of the countiy, whose 
laws he was appointed to administer — 
" a rising nation, spread over a wide 
and fmitful land, traversing all the seas 
Avith the rich productions of their 
industiy, engaged in commerce with 
nations who feel power and forget 
right, advancing rapidly to destinies 
beyond the reach of mortal eye" — ho 
proceeded to assuage the agitations of 
l^arty. " Every difference of opinion," 
he said, "is not a difference of prin- 
ciple. We have called by different 
names brethren of the same princij^le. 
We are all Republicans — we are all 
Federalists. If there be any among us 
who woidd wish to dissolve this Union, 
or to change its republican form, let 
them stand undisturbed as monuments 
of the safety with which error of 
oj^inion may be tolerated where reason 
is left free to combat it." 

One of the early measui-es of Jeffer- 
son's administration, and the most im- 
portant of his eight years of office, Avas 
the acquisition of Louisiana by pur- 
chase from France. It was a work 
upon which he had .peculiarly set his 
heart. From the first moment of hear- 
ing that the territory was passing from 
Spain to France, he di-opped all politi- 
cal sympathy for the latter, and -saw in 
her possession of the region only a 
pregnant som-ce of war and hostility. 
Not content with the usual channel of 
diplomacy through the State depai-t- 
ment, he wi'ote himself at once to Mr. 



CO 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



Livingston, the minister in France, 
urging considerations of national policy 
not so much that the United States 
phould hold the country, as that the 
Eiiroi)eaii jtowcrs should relimiuish it. 
From his own jtrovious discussions with 
Spain, he understood the topic well, 
and his zeal was now equal to the occa- 
sion. An active European nation of 
the first class in possession of the 
mouth of the Mississippi, was utterly 
iuadnussible to his sagacious mind ; he 
paw and felt the fiict in all its conse- 
quences. The rapidity of his conclu- 
sions, his patriotic insight were ha]ipily 
seconded by the necessities of Napoleon 
at the time, and Louisiana became an 
integral jiart of the Ilejniblic, witli the 
le;ust e.vpcuditurc of money and j)olitical 
negotiation. The turn of European 
events had much to do with it — but 
had the difficulty been prolonged, the 
prescience and energy of Jcllersou 
would, there is every reason to believe, 
have been pi-epared to cope Avith the 
issue. The expeilitiou of Lems and 
Clarke, in exploi-ation of the western 
territory, jiarallcl with this new acipii- 
sition, was planned l)y Jetl'erson, and 
must be jilaced to the credit, alike of 
Lis love of science and patriotic insight 
into the future of his country. The 
l>rilliant acts of the navy in the Medi- 
ten'anean, in conflict with the Barbary 
powei-s, came also to swell the triumphs 
of the administration, and Jeffei*son, at 
the next Presidential election, was 
borne into office, spite of a vigorous 
ojijiosition, by a vote of one hundred 
and sixty-two in the electoral college 
to fbui-teen given to Chai-les Cotesworth 
Pinckney. 



The main events of this second ad- 
ministration were the trial of Burr for 
his alleged western conspiracy, in which 
the President took a deep interest in 
the prosecution, and the measures 
adopted against the naval aggressions 
of England, which culminated in the 
famous " Embargo," by which the for- 
eign trade of the country was annihi- 
lated at a blow, that Great Britain 
might be reached in her commercial 
interests. The state of things was pe- 
culiar. America had been grievously 
\\Tonijed in her unsettled relations with 
England, and not only assailed, but 
insulted in the attack on the Cliesa- 
peake and seizure of her men. What 
was to be done ? The question was 
not ripe for war. The Eml)argo was 
accepted as an alternative, but its im- 
mediate pressure at home was even 
greater than ^viu'. The disasters of the 
latter in the injuries inflicted on our 
commerce, would have been vast ; but 
they would have been casual, and might 
have been escaped. Not so this self- 
denying ordinance of the Embargo, 
which prohilnti'd American vessels 
from sailing from foreign ports, and all 
foreign vessels from taking out cargoes : 
it wivs a constant force, acting to the 
destruction of all commerce. It, more- 
over, directed the course of traile from 
our own shores to others, whence it 
miu;ht not easily be recalled. All this 
must have been seen by the Adminis- 
tration which resorted to the measm-e 
as a temporal-}- cxpeilient. It, of course, 
called down a storm of opposition from 
the remnants of Federalism in the com- 
mercial States, which ended in its re- 
peal eai-ly in 1S09, after it had been in 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



61 



operation sometliing more than a year. 
Immediately after, the Presidency of its 
author closed with his second term, 
leaving the country, indeed, in an agi- 
tated, unsettled state in reference to its 
foreign policy, l)ut with many elements 
at home of enduring prosperity and 
grandeui-. The territoiy of the nation 
had been enlarged, its resources de- 
veloped, and its financial system con- 
ducted with economy and masterly 
ability ; time had been gained for the 
inevitable coming stniggle with Eng- 
land, and though the navy was not 
looked to as it should have been, it had 
more than given a pledge of its future 
prowess in its achievements in the 
Mediterranean. 

He was now sixty-six, nearly the full 
allotment of hiunan life, but he was 
destined to yet seventeen years of hono- 
rable exertion — an interval marked by 
his popular designation, " the sage of 
Monticello," in which asperities might 
die out, and a new generation learn to 
reverence him as a father of the State. 
He had been too much of a reformer 
not to suffer more than most men the 
obloquy of party, and he died without 
the tme Thomas Jeiferson being fully 
known to the public. In his last days 
he spoke of the calumny to which he 
had been sulyected with mingled i:)ride 
and charitable feeling. He had not 
considered, he said, in words worthy 
of remembrance, "his enemies as 
abusing him ; they had never known 
Jiim. They had created an imaginary 
being clothed with odious attributes, 
to whom they had given his name ; and 
it was against that creature of their 
imaginations they had levelled their 



anathemas." * "We may now penetrate 
vdthin that home, even, in the intimacy 
of his domestic correspondence, within 
that In'east, and learn something of the 
man Thomas Jefferson. His question- 
ing turn of mind, and, to a certain ex- 
tent, his unimaginative temperament, 
led him to certain views, particularly 
In matters of religion, which were 
thoucht at war with the welfare of 
society. But whatever the extent of 
his departure, in these things, from the 
majority of the Christian world, he 
does not appear, even in his o^vn family, 
to have influenced the opinion of others. 
His views are described, by those who 
have studied them, to resemble those 
held by the Unitarians. He was not 
averse, however, on occasion, to the 
services of the Episcopal Church, which, 
says Ml-. Eandall, "he generally at- 
tended, and when he did so, always 
carried his prayer-book, and joined in 
the respgnses and prayers of the con- 
sreo-ation." Of the Bible he was a 
great student, and, we fancy, derived 
much of his Saxon strength of expres- 
sion from familiarity with its language. 
If any subject was dearer to his 
heart than another, in his latter days, 
it was the course of education in the 
organization and government of his 
favorite University of Virginia. The 
topic had long been a favorite one, 
datins as far back with him as his 
report to the Legislature in 1779. It 
was revived in some efforts made in his 
county In 1814, which resulted in the 
estabbshment of a college that in 1818 



' Letter from Colonel T. J. Randolph to Henry 8. Ran- 
dall. Randall's Life of Jefferson, in. E44. 



62 



THOMAS JEFFERSON. 



gave place to the projected University. 
Its coureos of iustnictiou reflected bis 
tastes, its government was of bis con- 
trivance, be booked abroad for its first 
I)rofessors, and its arcbltectiiral jibms, 
in wbicb-be took great interest, were 
mainly arranged by bini. lie was 
cbosen by tbe Board of Visitors, 
aj>pointed by tbe Governor, its Hector, 
and died bolding tbe office. An in- 
scription for bis monument, wbicb was 
fonnd among bis papers at bis deatb, 
reads: " Here lies buried, Tbomas 
Jeflerson, autbor of tbe Declaration 
of American Independence, of tbe 
Statute of Viririnia for Religious Free- 
dom, and Fatber of tbe Uuivei'sity of 

irgnna. 

Tbe time was approacbiug for its 
emplo}^nent, as tbe old statesman lin- 
gered with some of tbe physical infirm- 
ities, few of tbe mental inconveuiouces 
of advanced life. His fondness t\)r 
riding blood liorses was ke])t uj) almost 
to tbe last, and be bad always bis 
family, bis friends, bis books — taitbful 
to tbe end to tbe sublimities of yEscbj- 
lus, tbe passion of bis younger days. 
lie was nuicb more of a classical, even, 
tban o{ a scientific scholar, we have 
beard it said by one well qualified to 
form an opinion; but this was a taste 
wbicb bo did not boast of, and which, 
bajjplly for bis enjoyment of it, his 
political enemies did not find out. In 
tbe decline of life, when debt, growing 
out of old encumbrances and new 
exjienses on bis estates, was pressing 
upon him, these resom-ces were unfaib 
ing and exacted no repayments. His 
pen, too, ever ready to give wings to his 



thought, was with him. Even in those 
last days, preceding the national anniver- 
sary wbicb marked bis deatb, be Anote 
with bis wonted strength and fervor : 
"All eyes are opened or opening to tbe 
rights of man. Tbe general spread of 
tbe light of science has already laid 
open to every view the palpable truth, 
that tbe mass of mankind have not 
been born Avith saddles on their backs, 
nor a favored few booted and spun-ed, 
ready to ride them legitimately, by the 
grace of God." This Avas the last echo 
of tbe fire which was wont to inspire 
senates, which had breathed in the 
early councils of liberty, which had 
kept pace with the progress of the na- 
tion to a third generation. A few days 
after, at noon of the daj' which bad 
given the Republic birth, to the music 
of bis own brave words, exactly fifty 
years after tbe event ; in full conscious- 
ness of bis ebbing moments, with tran- 
quillity and equanimity, passed from 
earth the soul of Tbomas Jeftei'son. 
His old comrade, John Adams, lingered 
at Braintrce a few hours longer, think- 
ing of his friend in bis dying moments, 
as be uttered bis last words : " Thomas 
Jefferson still sm-vives." They were 
too late for fact, but they have been 
accepted for proj)becy, and in this 
spirit they are inscribed as tbe motto 
to the latest memorial of him of whom 
they were spoken. Thus, on tbe fouiih 
of July, 18 "20, i>assed away tbe two 
great a})Ostles of American liberty; 
tbe voice wbicb, louder, perhaps, than 
any other, bad called for the Declara- 
tion of Independence, and tbe hand 
that penned it. 




/ 



/^ff7L-*^t: 



e/^Z^tij ^-C f ^r,^t€'t.i rfi- 



JAMES MADISON. 



James Madison, the fourth President 
of tlie United States, was descended 
from an old family of Virginia planters, 
which is traced to the first annals of 
the country, in the records of the great 
pioneer, Captain Jolin Smith. A 
branch of the family is distinguished 
in the history of western settlement be- 
yond the AUeghanies. The first bishop 
of the Protestant Episcopal Church 
of Virginia bore the same name with 
the President, and was related to him. 

The family seat of the branch of the 
Madisons, which gave })irth to the sub- 
ject of our sketch, was Montpelier, in 
Orange County, Virginia. It was the 
home of his father and grandfather, and 
became celebrated as his own residence 
Avlien years and public services brought 
jiilgriras to the spot. His birthplace, 
however, was some fifty miles distant, 
on the banks of the Ilaj)pahannock, 
near Port Royal, at the estate belonging 
to his maternal grandmotlier, where his 
mother was then on a visit. 

Mr. Rives, the latest biographer of 
Madison, speaks of the ancient seat of 
hospitality, Montpelier, and "the pic- 
turesque grandeur of its mountain 
scenery," enhanced by " the heartiness 
and cordiality of its possessors. The 
mother of Mi'. Madison, Eleanor Con- 
way," he continues, " must in her day 



have added largely to the attractions 
of the social, as she undoubtedly did in 
the highest degree, to the happiness, 
comfort and usefulness of the domestic 
scene. Nothing is mon; touching and 
beautiful in the life of her illustrious 
son, than the devoted tenderness for 
his mother, with which her virtues and 
character inspired him — ever recurring 
with anxious thoughtfulness, in the 
midst of his most important occupa- 
tions, to her delicate health, and after 
the close of his public labors, person- 
ally watching over and nursing her old 
age with such pious care, that her life 
was protracted to wdthin a few years 
of the term of his own. His father 
was, no less, the object of his dutiful 
and affectionate attachment and respect. 
The correspondence between them, from 
the period of young Madison's being 
sent to Princeton College in ITCO, to 
the installation of the matiu'ed and hf> 
nored statesman in the office of Secre- 
tary of State in 1801, when the fathei 
died, has been carefully preserved, 
and shows how much they were 
bound to each other by sentiments 
of mutual confidence and respect, even 
more than by ties of natural affection." ' 



' History of the Life and Times of James Madison, by 
WiUiam C. Kivcs. I. 8-9. 

68 



6i 



JAMES MADISON. 



Sucli influences of the beauties of 
nature and of domestic life, are favor- 
able to a liappy development of the 
youthful faculties, and have much to 
do with the nuui's future career. Tlie 
young Madison was a well disposed, 
teachable youth. He received his edu- 
cation at a boarding-school kept in the 
neighboring King and Queen County, 
by Donald Robertson, a learned Scotch- 
nnui, with whom he was placed for a 
few years, at the age of twelve. Re- 
turning to his home, he was prepared 
for college by the clergyman of the 
parish, the Rev. Thomas Martin, who 
had his home under the paternal roof 
Princeton College, New Jersey, had 
then risen into distinction by the acipii- 
sition of a President of great acuteness 
of mind and fine literary and ]>liilo- 
sophical attainments, John Wither- 
spoon, who bore a prominent part in 
the Revolution, and whose name' adorns 
the Declaration of Independence. To 
Princeton, then, at this time, flocked 
the youth, -who were to be emjihatically 
the men of the new generation. MmYi- 
son was foremost among the number, 
and by his side were Samuel Stanhope 
Smith, the future accomplished divine, 
Hugh Henry Brackenridge, the stalwart 
author of "ilodern Chivalry," Philip 
Freueau, a man of great talent, the 
verse-maker of the Revolution, who was 
his classmate, William Bradford, Aaron 
Burr, and four future governors of 
States — John Henry, of Marylaml, 
Morgan Lewis, of New York, Aaron 
Ogden, of New Jersey, and Henry Lee, 
of Vii'ginia.' 

' Wo arc indebted to Mr. Rives for this rnuniorntion, 
with the exceiiliOQ of Freauau, wboiii ho haa omitted. 



Madison wjis an ardent student, 
stealing hours from sleep for his books, 
and compressing the laboi-s of the four 
years' College course into three. This 
devotion enabled him to graduate in 
1771, a year earlier than he woidd 
otherwise have done; but it cost Iiiia 
an illness which he sought to repair l)y 
a continued residence at Princeton, 
whicli was not without its advautatjes 
in the counsel of Witherspoon, who 
greatly admired the sagacity and pru- 
dence of his pupil, and in tlu; o))pt)r- 
tunity of watching the oj)euing move- 
ments of the Revolution at New Yt)rk. 
Madison left Princeton with a mind 
imbued with literature, a polished style 
of coni])osition, and religious convic- 
tions strengthened by much thought 
and extensive reading. 

He now for a while employed his 
time at home in liberal studies, and 
assisted in the education of his younger 
brothers. His correspondence with 
his friend, William Bradford, at this 
time, shows an ardent, ingenuous, open- 
ing manhood, kindling at the evils of 
the times, tlie union of poverty and 
luxury, the jncvalence of vice and 
wickedness, and the defects of the 
clergy, and especially the persecutions 
which were then rife in his neighbor- 
hood, under the church and State legis- 
lation, directed against some unfortu- 
nate Baptist dissenters. 

The sentiment of opposition to Brit- 
ish authority, which had sprung up 
simultaneously from foregone conclu- 
sions in the minds of the intelligent 
patriots of the country, was now to as- 
sume form in active services. Madison 
was among the earliest to give exjires- 



JAMES MADISON. 



65 



sion to it. He anticipated the famous 
resolutions of Henry in 1775, and upon 
that popular leader's success in the 
affair of the powder with Dunmore, 
drew up, in May of that year, an ad- 
dress of thanks for the Orange County 
committee. In the first General Con- 
vention of the State of Virginia, which 
organized its independence the follow- 
ing year at Williamsburg, Madison 
was a delegate from his district. He 
was one of the committee appointed to 
frame a Constitution, and, under the 
leadership of George Mason, rendered 
valuable services to that instrument. 
He was the author, in particular, of an 
important amendment of the original 
draft of the Declaration of Rights, 
which substituted for the word " tolera- 
tion," in matters of religion, a full ex- 
pression of the absolute right to the 
exercise of freedom. Madison sat with 
Jefferson in the first Legislative Assem- 
bly under the Constitution at Wil- 
liamsburg, but lost his election to the 
next session by his resistance to the 
popidar custom, inherited fi'om the 
Anglican colonial times, of treating 
the electors. His opponents were not 
so scrupulous, and he was defeated. 
To make amends for this tiu'u of af- 
fairs, the legislative body chose him a 
member of its Council of State. He 
held this position till he was sent by 
the Assembly to the National Congress 
of 1780, at Philadelphia, in which he 
served till the conclusion of peace. 
The services rendered by him during 
this period were rather those of a 
counsellor and committee man than of 
a debater. Indeed, a constitutional 
modesty and diltideuce long withheld 
9 



him from public displays of the kind, 
and it was only by degrees that he 
conquered the inability or reluctance. 
" So extreme," we are told, " was his 
diffidence, that it was Mr. Jefferson's 
opinion that if his first public appear- 
ance had taken place in such an assem- 
bly as the House of Representatives of 
the United States, Mr. Madison would 
never have been able to overcome his 
aversion to disjday. But by practice, 
fu'st in the Executive Council of Vir- 
ginia, and aftei-wards in the Old Con- 
gress, which was likewise a small body, 
he was gradually habituated to speech- 
making in public, in which he became 
so powerful." ^ 

But if we hear little of the oratory 
of Madison, there is much to be said 
of his services to the Old Congress. 
They were those of the statesman con- 
tinually emjiloyed in eking out the 
resources, sustaining the credit, and 
adjusting the irregular machinery of an 
imperfect system of government. Aftex- 
the first glow of patriotism, and the 
ardor of remonstrance, in the early 
scenes of the Revolution, there was 
more of toil than of glory in the later 
labors of Congress. Its feeble powers, 
even under the Articles of Confedera- 
tion, its unsettled authority, the di- 
vided allegiance of the people of the 
States, its shifts in the government of 
the army, its failures in finance, its un- 
equal foreign diplomacy, all productive 
of jarring and discord, had, indeed, one 
compensation. They were well calcu- 
lated to discipline the statesmen who 
engaged in them, and enlighten the 



' Biographical Sketch of Madison, 
view, March, 18S9. 



Democratic Re- 



66 



JAMES MADISON. 



public on the necessities and claims of 
a just govornmont. Out of tlu' troul)lod 
strife and confusion came forth, Avitli 
others, Jay, Hamilton, and INIadison, 
and the nation, after being long in 
pain, brought forth the Constitution. 

We may refer IMadison's chief labors 
to one or other of these trials which 
we have enumerated. We find him, 
for instance, at one time discharging, 
with consummate ability, what would 
now fall to a Secretary of State, namely, 
the preparation of a paper to be sent 
to the minister in Spain, enforcing the 
claim to the free navigation of the 
Mississippi; and when the force of his 
argument had established his positions 
to the admiration of all men, he is com- 
pelled to combat the opposition of his 
own State, and Avitness a degrading 
withdrawal by Congress of the proud 
instructions he had fonvarded to the 
plenipotentiary at Madiid. 

At another time, he is engaged in 
advocating a simple and necessar}' 
revenue system of duties, to discharge 
the oblicrations of the war and sustain 
public credit, a measm-e which is 
thwarted by State opposition, when 
his own Virginia falls away from her 
resolves, but which he returns to, and 
again works upon till it is brought, 
with increased authority, before Con- 
gress, and submitted to the States, ac- 
com])anied by a masterly appeal li'om 
his pen. And yet the work is not 
done. It is left as a legacy to the 
Government to come. 

During his residence in Philadeli)hia, 
Madison formed an unrequited attach- 
ment for the daughter of General Floyd, 
a New York delegate, which drew forth 



from Jefferson a philosophical letter of 
consolation under his disappointment, 
which may relieve these rather diy 
details of political duties. " I sincerely 
lament," -wiites Jefl'erson, who was an 
acquaintance of the lady, " the misad- 
venture which has hajipened, from 
whatever cause it may have happened. 
Should it be final, however, the world 
still presents the same and many other 
resources of happiness, and you possess 
many within yourself Firmness of 
mind and imiutermitting occupation 
will not long leave you in pain. No 
event has been more contrary to my 
expectations, and these were founded 
on what I thoucrht a good kuowlt'di^e 
of the ground. But of all machines, 
ours is the most complicated and in- 
explica1>le." * 

Upon his retiu'n to Montpelier from 
Congress, Madison directed his atten- 
tion again to the study of the law, 
which, like Richard Ilenrj' Lee, he pur- 
sued rather with a view to statesman- 
ship, than with any intention to engage 
in the ordinary conflicts of the profes- 
sion. From 1784 to If 86, he was in 
the State legislature, which he re- 
entered with the full intention to 
bring to the service of Vii-ginia and the 
country the lessons of experience which 
he had derived from his labors in the 
Concnress. In his own words, " I ac- 
ceded to the desire of my fellow citizens 
of the county, that I should be one of 
its representatives in the Legislature, 
hoping that I might there best con- 
tribute to inculcate the critical posture 
to which the Revolutionary cause was 



' MS. letter cited in Kivcs' Life of Madison, L fSS. 



JAMES MADISON. 



67 



reduced, and tlie merit of a leadiug 
agency of the State in bringing about 
a rescue of the Union and the blessings 
of liberty staked on it, from an impend- 
ing catastrophe." ^ The most important 
of his employments in this capacity, 
relate to the internal improvements of 
the State and its commercial condition, 
in which he seconded the plans of 
Washington; the proposed mode of 
supporting the clergy by assessment, 
advocated by Patrick Henry, which he 
defeated ; and the adjustment of the 
British debts, which he sought to bring 
about in furtherance of the treaty obli- 
gation of the General Government. 
His measures were especially directed 
to the support of the confederacy, in 
the regulation of trade and commerce. 
For this purpose, he drafted the reso- 
lution of Jan. 21, 1786, appointing 
Commissioners to assemble at a time 
and place to be agreed on with the 
delegates of other States who should 
accept the invitation, to take into con- 
sideration the commercial questions at 
issue. The representatives of five 
States — New York, New Jersey, Penn- 
sylvania, Delaware and Virginia — 
assembled, in Sejitemlier, at Annapolis, 
Maiyland, which was chosen for its 
remoteness from the seat of Congress 
and the large cities. The attendance 
was inadequate to the intended object, 
but the meeting had one memorable re- 
sult. It brought together Alexander 
Hamilton and James Madison, and by 
its emphatic recommendation drawn 
up by Hamilton, enlarging the objects 



' Introduction to the Debates in the ConTontion. The 
Madison Tapers, II. 693. 



of the meeting, led directly to the 
Federal Convention of the ensuing 
year. Madison urged uj^on the Vir 
ginia Assembly compliance Avith the 
suggestions at Annapolis, and he was 
himself chosen as one of the delegates 
to the new body, having among his 
colleagues from his native State, Wash- 
ington, Mason and Wythe. Virginia 
thus stood foremost in the work of the 
Convention. Madison approached his 
great work — the great Avork of his 
life — with a solemn sense of its im- 
portance and responsibility. No one 
knew better than himself the absolute 
necessity of national union, to be ex- 
pressed in a system of law comprehend- 
ing the Avhole and protecting the 
several pai"ts. No one worked more 
faithfully in the Convention, which 
made a mighty nation out of janing 
and discordant States. Madison was 
so impressed with the future import of 
the work in which he was engaged, 
that he added to the labors of debate 
the Herculean task of preparing, day 
by day, a report of the proceedings of 
the Convention, embracing all the 
speeches and discussions. " The curi- 
osity I had felt," he says, in a prelimi- 
nary essay prefixed to this manuscript 
histoiy, Avhich he left unjiublished at 
his death as a legacy to his country, 
" dui'ing my researches into the history 
of the most distinguished confederacies, 
particularly those of antiquity, and the 
deficiency I found in the means of 
satisfying it, more especially in what 
related to the process, the principles, 
the reasons and the anticipations which 
prevailed in the formation of them, 
detennined me to presei-ve, as far as I 



68 



JAMES MADISON. 



coiilcl, nn exact account of what might 
pass iu the Convention whilst executing 
its trust, witli the iiiagiiitude of which 
I was iluly inijnessed, as 1 was hy the 
gratilication promised to futiu'c curi- 
osity by an autJieutic exhibition of the 
objects, the opinions and the reasonings 
from which the new system of govern- 
ment was to receive its peculiar stnic- 
ture and organization. Nor -was I 
unaware of the value of such a contii- 
bution to the fund of materials fi>r the 
histoiy of a Constitution, on which 
would be staked the happiness of a 
people great even in its ini^vncy, and 
possibly the cause of liberty tlirough- 
out the world." 

The j)aius taken by Madison in the 
})re})aration of this work was cxtrordi- 
nary. lie selected a seat neai* the chair- 
man, where nothing that jmssed would 
escape him ; made abbreviated notes of 
all that was reatl and said ; not a little, 
he tells us, aided by practice and 
familiarity with the style and train of 
observation and reasoning of the prin- 
cipal speakers ; \\Tote ont these notes 
when the Convention was not in ses- 
sion ; in a very few instances being 
aided by the revisions or supervision 
of the speakers. So important were 
these ])rivate labors of ^Madison, that 
when Congress, in 1819, undertook the 
publication of the Journal of the Con- 
vention, Madison was called upon to 
complete its imperfect official outline, 
lie left the Debates, at his death, care- 
fully i»repared for the press, \vith direc- 
tions in his Avill for their publication. 
Failing to secure satisfactory arrange- 
ments with publishers, his widow sub- 
mitted the afl'jiir to President Jackson. 



He brought it before Congress, the pul> 
lication was provided for by that body, 
and thirty thousand dollars were aj)- 
])ro})riated to Mrs. ]\Iadison for the 
copyright. The work iiually aj)peare(l, 
more than half a centuiy after the tlis- 
cussions which it recorded, in 1840, 
when the public learnt, for the first 
time, the full histoiy of the Convcu 
tion. The Madison Papers also include 
another series of Debates in the Con 
gress of the Confederation, taken in the 
years 1782-3, and 1787 ; for, reap- 
pointed in 178G, Madison was also a 
member of the old Congress at its final 
adjournment. 

The work of the Convention being 
now comjilcted iu the foruiation of the 
Constitution, it was next to be sub- 
mitted to the States. Madison, in con- 
junction with Jay and Hamilton, paved 
the way foi- its ado])tion in the Pa}>ers 
of the Federalist, originally })ublished 
in a New York journal. The contribu- 
tions written by him, in whole or in 
part, are twenty-nine in number, ex- 
hibiting, among other points, the utility 
of the Union as a safeguanl against 
domestic faction and insuirection, the 
anarchical tendencies of mere confede- 
racies, the nature of the }>roposed 
powers, and the law of their distribu- 
tion. The paper " Concerning the diffi- 
culties which the Convention must have 
experienced iu the formation of a pro- 
per j)lan," rises into a philosophical com- 
ment ; and certainly no one could ■m-ite 
with more feeling on this theme than 
IMadison. 

iMadison Avas a member of the Rati- 
fying Convention in Virginia, where its 
adoption met vdih considerable opposi- 



JAMES MADISON. 



69 



tion, headed hj Patrick Henry, who 
looked upon the new government as a 
sacrifice of State interests. So decided 
was his antagonism to Madison, as its 
prominent defender, tliat lie defeated 
his election as Senator to the first Con- 
gress. 

He was, however, chosen by the elec- 
tors of his district a member of the 
House of Kepresentatives, in which 
body he continued to serve for eight 
years. In the interpretation of the pow- 
ers of the Constitution, and in regard to 
the policy of several measures of go- 
vernment, he differed from the Adminis- 
tration. He opposed the financial 
adjustments of Hainilton, and in the 
course of the French agitations, led 
the debate in opposition to the British 
treaty. 

This period of Congressional life was 
relieved by the mamage of Madison, 
in 1794, to a young Avidow of Phila- 
delphia, Mrs. Todd, better known by 
her maiden name, Dolly Payne. This 
lady was a Virginian by birth, of 
Quaker parentage. The mamage was 
a most ha2:)py one. The vivacity and 
amiable disposition of Mrs. Madison 
have left their gentle recollections alike 
in the retirement of Montpelier, and the 
gay salons of Washington. Her femi- 
nine grace softened the asperities and 
relieved the burden of political life. 
After soothing the protracted age of 
her husband, his feebleness and his 
languors, she survived many years, to 
be honored in herself and in his 
memory. 

After the close of his Congressional 
life, Madison retired with his wife 
to his books and home pursuits at 



Montpelier. He was soon, however, 
to be called forth again into the arena 
by the agitations of the times. The 
extraordinary mtsasures of Adams, the 
Alien and Sedition laws, which gi-ew 
out of the attacks upon govern- 
ment in the French excitement, were 
violently assailed in Virginia. Mr. 
Madison drafted the famcms resolu- 
tions of the Legislature of 1798, con- 
demning these acts of the Administra- 
tion, and to extend their influence with 
the public, issued his Report. 

On the election of Jefferson to the 
Presidency, in 1801, Madison became 
Secretary of State, and discharged the 
duties of the office till he was called 
to succeed his friend at the head of th(! 
government, in 1809. It was a period 
of embaiTassing foreign diplomacy, of 
vexed international relations, of pro- 
tracted discussions of the rights of neu- 
trals, of restrictions, and that measure 
of incipient war, the embargo. The con- 
test with England, was the chief event 
of Madison's administrations. He was 
a man of peace, not of the sword, and 
needed not the terror and indecorum of 
the fliglit from Washington, and the 
burning of the capitol, to impress 
upon him its unsatisfactoiy necessities. 
Public opinion was divided as to the 
vnsdom of the contest. The emban-ass- 
ments of the question have been covered 
by a flood of gloiy, but little perhaps 
was gained besides the victories, which 
might not have been secured a little 
later by diplomacy. The war, however 
established one fact, that America would 
fight, at whatever cost, in defence of 
her violated rights, and the lesson may 
have assisted, and may yet be destined 



70 



JAMES MADISON. 



to assist, other deliberationa At any 
rate, it is to the credit of Madison, 
that he entered npon the apj>arently 
inevitable hostilities %\-ith reliu'tanee, 
that he muintaineil the struggle Urndy, 
and l)ro\ight it to an early close. 

Montpelier, again, in 1817, gave its 
friendly welcome to the wearied states- 
man. With the exception of his jiar- 
tieipation as a member of the Conven- 
tion, at Richmond, of lSi?9, in the 
revision of the Constitution of Virginia, 
lie is said never to have left his district 
for the reuiaiuder of his life, which, 
solaced by the entertainment of books 
and natural history, the 'comforts of 
domestic life, and the attentions of his 
countrymen to the aged patriot, was 
protracted at his mountain residence, 
to the advanced term of eighty-five 
yeai-s — an extraordinary period for a 
constitution feeble from youth, afflicted 
with various disorders, and exjioscd to 
the pressure of harassing occupation. 
He died at Montpelier, June 28, 1836, 
the last survivor of that second noble 
band of signers, the signei"s of the 
Constitution. 

An interesting article, contributed 
by Professor George Tui'ker, of the 
University of Virgini;i, of which, after 
the death of Jetferson, Madison be- 
came rector, to the "Loudon Penny 
Encyclopedia," supjdies us with a few 
personal anecdotes of the man. " In 
person ]Mr. Madison was below the 
middle size ; tlu>ugh his face was ordi- 
narily homely, Avheu he smiled it Avas 
80 j)leasing as to be almost handsome. 
His manner witli strangers was re- 
served, which some regju'ded a^ pride, 



and others as coldness ; but, on further 
acquaintance, these impressions were 
comjdctely eft'aced. His temper seemed 
to be naturally a very sweet oui', and to 
have been brought under comi)lete con- 
trol. "When excited, he seldom showed 
any stronger indication of anger than 
a slight flush on the cheek. As a hus- 
band, ]Mr. Madison was Avithout re- 
proach. He never had a child. He 
was an excellent master, and though he 
might have relieved himself from debt, 
and secured an easy income, he could 
never be induced to sell his slaves, ex- 
cept for their own accommodation, to 
be Anth their vnves or husbands. The 
writer has sometimes been struck with 
the conferences between him and some 
trusty servant in his sick chamber, the 
Idack seeming to identify himself with 
his master as to plans of management, 
and giving his opinions as freely, tlunigh 
not ofVcnsively, as if conversing with a 

brother With great powers of 

argument, he had a fine vein of hvmior ; 
he abounded in anecdote, told his 
stories very well, and they had the 
advantage of being such as were ne\er 
heard before, except perhaps from him- 
self Such were his conversational 
powers, that to the last his house was 
one of the most pleasant to visit, and 
his society the most delightfid that can 
be imagined. Yet more than half his 
time he suftered bodily pain, and some- 
times very acute j)ain." 

" Purity, modesty, decorum — a mo- 
deration, temperance, and virtue in 
everything," said the late Senator Ben- 
ton, " were the characteristics of ^Lr. 
Madison's life and manners." 




/7 •■ 



r-^ < 



JAMES MONROE. 



James MoismoE, the fiftli President 
of tlie United States, was born in April, 
1758, in "Westmoreland County, Vir- 
ginia, on tlie Potomac, a region remark- 
able in the history of the country as 
the birth-place of Washington, Madi- 
son, and of the distinguished family of 
the Lees. Monroe's ancestors had been 
long settled on the spot. The names 
of his parents were Spence Monroe and 
Elizabeth Jones ; and, to our regret, 
the scant biographies of the President 
tell us nothins; more of them. Theii* 
son was educated at the college of Wil- 
liam and Mary, which he left to take 
part in the early struggles of the army 
of Washington — a cause which in the 
breasts of Virginians superseded all 
ordinary occupation. Like Marshall 
and others, the future civilian began 
his career in the pursuits of war. He 
joined the forces of Washington at 
New York, in time to participate in 
the courageous retreat after the battle 
of Long Island. He was in the action 
at Harlem Heights, and the subsequent 
battle of White Plains, and was in the 
retreat through the Jerseys. He led a 
company in the van of the battle of 
Ti'enton, and was severely wounded, 
a service in the field which procured 
him a captaincy. He was with Lord 
Stirling, acting as his aid in the cam- 



paigns of 17 Y7 and 1778, and distin- 
guished himself at the Bi-andywine, 
Germantown and Monmouth. Being 
thrown out of the regular line of pro- 
motion by accepting his staff appoint- 
ment, he was anxious to regain his posi- 
tion in the line, aud for this pui-pose 
was sent by Washington to raise a 
regiment in Virginia. Failing to ac- 
complish this object he remained in the. 
State and dii-ected his attention to the 
study of the law, under the direction 
of Jefferson, then recently elected Go- 
vernor. He took no further part with 
the army at the north, but was active 
as a volunteer when Virginia became 
the theatre of the war in the successive 
invasions of Arnold, Phillips and Corn- 
wallis. He was specially employed by 
Governor Jefferson in 1780, to visit the 
southern army as a military commis- 
sioner, to report on its conditions and 
prospects, a duty which he performed 
to the full satisfaction of the Executive. 
In 1782 he was elected a member of 
the Vu-ginia Legislature, and shortly 
promoted by that body to a seat in its 
executive council. In June of the next 
year he was chosen member of Congress 
and sat in that body at its meeting at 
Annapolis when Washington resigned 
his military commission at the close of 
the war. The immediate pressure of 

• 71 



72 



.JAMES MONROE. 



the necessary stejis for self-delVnce, 
Nvhioh gave a kind of ooliosion to tlie 
loose anthority of the oUl Congress, 
being now removed, attentit)n was 
drawn in the most forcible manner to 
its defects and weaknesses. A poor in- 
strument fm- war, it was utteily inca- 
pable of managing the res})onsibilities 
of jH'ace. In foreign and domestic regu- 
lations, in the discharge of its obliga- 
tions, in raising a revenue, in giving 
uniformity to trade, in eveiy sjiecies of 
judicial determination, it Avas lamenta- 
bly inefficient. Slouroe, though a 
young legislator — he was only twenty- 
four when he entered Congress, and 
consequently had not the dearly-iujr- 
chased experience of some of the older 
membere who had exhausted eveiy art 
of labor and ingenuity in holding the 
disjointed fabric together — yet was sa- 
iracious enou<rh to see the difficulties 
of the confederacy, and was judged of 
sufficient importance in council to ap- 
ply a remcily. He took part in the 
prominent discussions, and in 1785 in- 
troduced a report as chairman of a com- 
mittee intrusted with certain resolu- 
tions of Congress regarding the levying 
of an impost, and a call ujion the State 
legislatures to grant the ]>ower of regu- 
lating commerce. He re])orted in favor 
of an alteration of the Articles of Con- 
federation to meet both objects. The 
necessity of some ju-ovision for these 
objects led fii-st to the convention at 
Annapolis, where the initial steps were 
taken to bring together the convention 
of 1787, at Philadelphia, which origin- 
ated the Constitution. Another mark 
of confidence in the abilities »>f Monroe 
was his selection as one of the commis- 



sioners to decide upon the controverted 
boundarj' between New York and Mas- 
sachusetts, in 1784. He accepted the 
a})j)ointmeut, but delays arising in thu 
composition of the board, resigned the 
office before the case came to a healing. 
Indeed it was settled without resort to 
the court at all. Mr. IMonroe also took 
part in the discussions touching the as- 
sumptions of Spain in her attempts to 
close the navigation of the Mississippi 
to inland American commerce, ojiposing 
the concession of a riirht which at that 
time began to be resolutely claimed, 
and was fortunately at no very distant 
day established by treaty. AVo shall 
find his name jirominently associated 
with this important measvuv. " It was 
the qualities of judgment and i)ersever- 
ance which he disi)layed on that occa- 
sion," says Senator Benton, " which 
brought him thof e calls to dii)lomacy, 
in which he was afterwards so much 
employed -with three of the then gi-eat- 
est European i)owers — Fi-ance, Sjtain 
and Great Britain; and it was in allu- 
sion to this circumstance that President 
Jefl:*ei*son afterwards, when the right of 
deposit at New Orleans had been vio- 
lated by Spain, and when a minister 
was Avanteil to recover it, said, ' Monroe 
is the man : the defence of the Missis- 
sippi belongs to him.' " ' 

The feeling e.xcited by the discussion 
of the negotiation between the North 
and South in the old Congress, led him 
to abandon his appointment as commis- 
sioner in the boundary dis}Hite l>etween 
New York and Massachusetts.' 



' Bonlon'a Thirty Voara' View, I. 680. 
' Aildn-iis on Ihe Life and Character of Jomca Mooroo, 
b}- Joliii (juiiic}! Adaiiti. 



JAMES MONROE. 



73 



The three years' service of Mr. Mon- 
roe in Congress closed in 1786. Dur- 
ing that term he mamed Miss Kort- 
riglit, a lady of New York, of an old 
and rcHpectablc family of the State, 
of whose personal merits we may wil- 
lingly accept the eulogy of President 
John Qnincy Adams. " Of her attrac- 
tions and accomjdishments," says he, " it 
were impossible to speak in tenns of 
exaggeration. She was, for a period 
little short of half a century, the cher- 
ished and affectionate partner of her 
husband's life and fortunes. Slie ac- 
companied him in all his joumeyings 
through this world of care, from which, 
by the dispensations of Providence, she 
liad been removed only a few months 
before himself. The companion of his 
youth was the solace of his declining 
years, and to the close of life enjoyed 
the testimonial of his affection, that 
with the external beauty and elegance 
of deportment, conspicuous to all who 
were honored with her acquaintance, 
she united the more precious and en- 
dearing qualities which mark the ful- 
fihneut of all the social duties, and 
adorn with grace and fill with enjoy- 
ment the tender relations of domestic 
life." 

At the close of this Congress- 
ional term, Mr. Monroe made his resi- 
dence at FredericksTjurg, with a view 
to the practice of the law, and was pre- 
sently, in 1Y87, returned to tlie Assem- 
bly of Virginia. In the following year 
ha was chosen a member of the Con- 
vention of the State, called to decide 
upon the acceptance of the Constitu- 
tion. We have seen the part which he 
bore in the discussions of the old Con- 
10 



gress of the Confederacy on his first 
admission to that body in reference to 
the increase of its powers. When the 
new instrument was before the country 
and under deliberation in the State 
Convention, he was opposed to its 
adoption, holding that certain restric- 
tions, afterwards embraced in the 
amendments, should precede its accept- 
ance. Notwithstanding, however, his 
opposition to its provisions, he was 
early appointed to an important office 
of its creation, that of United States 
senator, to which he was elected in 
1789, on the decease of William Gray- 
son, one of the first members chosen. 
lie continued in the Senate till 1Y94, 
when he was appointed by Washing- 
ton minister plenipotentiary to France, 
contemporaneously with Chief Justice 
Jay to the court of Great Bi-itain. 
Gouverneur Moms, from his sympathies 
with royalty and his undisguised de- 
clarations of his sentiments, had become 
unpopular with the French court. 
Moreover, his recall was requested as a 
compensation to the wounded honor of 
France in the American rejection of 
Genet, which was on the point of being 
consummated, when he was withdra^vn. 
As a measure of reconciliation, Wash- 
ington chose a successor from the party 
supposed particularly to favor French 
ideas, in contradistinction to the admir- 
ers of England. In the two divisions 
of the country between France and 
Great Britain, the Republican party 
was of the former, the Federalists of 
the latter. In sending Jay to England 
and Monroe to France, the President 
was conciliating the nations to whom 
they were commissioned, and parties at 



74 



JAMES MONROE. 



home. Tlie policy of Wasliington was 
neutrality, and be endeavored, as far as 
was consistent with the public welfivre, 
to treat both sides with strict impar- 
tiality. There were more jiopular 
grounds of leaning to France ; that na- 
tion had assisted us to the final triumph 
which gave America independence, and 
so had the better claim upon our sym- 
pathies in comparison mth an enemy 
•ivho Lad not yet learnt to respect a 
successful rebel. But familiar, sponta- 
neous France was felt to be more ex- 
acting than cold and distant England. 
The continental nation had attempted 
to play the part of a dictator in Ameri- 
can affairs, and she had not shown the 
virtue at home to command respect to 
her interference abroad. She repre- 
sented, beside, dangerous political the- 
ories, while our consen'ative system 
was essentially based on the authority 
of English precedents. For all this, it 
was natui'al that the administration of 
Washington should incline to England 
when a decision was to be made be- 
tween the two nations. 

Mr. Monroe anived in Paris August 
2, 1794, and was well received by the 
National Convention, when he brought 
himself to the notice of that body. 
His reception in fact was enthusiastic. 
It was public, in the Convention, and 
as the minister delivered his credentials 
it was decreed " that the flag of the 
American and French republics should 
be united together and suspended in 
the hall of the Convention, in testimo- 
ny of eternal union and friendship be- 
tween the two peoples. To evince the 
imj)res8ion made on his mind by this 
act, and the grateful sense of his consti- 



tuents, Mr. Monroe presented to the 
Convention the flas: of the United 
States, which he prayed them to accept 
as a proof of the sensibility with which 
his countiy received every act of fi-iend 
ship from its ally, and of the pleasure 
with which it cherished every incident 
which tended to cement and consolid- 
ate the union between the two nations." ' 
These congratulations were reciprocat- 
ed in kind by the transmission of a 
French flag to the United States by the 
hands of the new minister, M. Adet, 
who delivered it to the President at 
his reception. Words, however, do not 
always express deeds. The Govern- 
ment continued not only jealous of any 
diplomatic movements of the United 
States in England, but pursued a sys- 
tem of aggression upon American com- 
merce and trade, little if anything shoi't 
of actual hostilities. It was Mr. Mon- 
roe's duty to negotiate and protest ; 
his efforts were ineffectual to control 
the agencies at work, and after some- 
thing more than two years of diploma- 
cy he received his letters of recall, 
brought by his successor. General 
Charles Cotesworth Piuckuey. The 
mission of Monroe was officially closed 
on the first of January, 1797, when he 
took leave of the Executive Dlrectoiy 
in an amlience specially assigned for 
the purpose. 

It was no doubt the impression of 
Washington, in ajipoiuting a successor 
to Monroe, that the latter had in some 
way failed proj)erly to urge the views 
of his Government. In the language 
of his cabinet, of which Timothy Pick- 

• MarshttU's Life of Washingtou, V. lU. 



JAMES MONROE. 



75 



ering was now at the head, " whether 
this dangerous omission arose from 
such an attachment to the cause of 
France as rendered him too little mind- 
ful of the interests of his own country, 
or from mistaken views of the latter, or 
from any other cause, the evil is the 
same ;" they therefore advised his re- 
call. It may be mentioned that Wash- 
ington at first thought of sending a 
minister extraordinary to negotiate by 
his side ; but this he was unable to do 
without the action of Congress, and 
that body was not now in session. 

On his return to the United States, 
Mr. Monroe thought fit to meet what 
he conceived an unfair judgment of his 
course by the publication of a volume 
entitled " A View of the Conduct of 
the Executive in the Foreign Affairs 
of the United States, connected with 
the Mission to the French Republic 
during the Years 1794-5-6, illustrated 
by his Instructions and Correspondence, 
and other Authentic Documents." The 
book, from which the author expressly 
refused to receive any profit, was pub- 
lished "by and for" Benjamin Frank- 
lin Bache, at the office of the " Aurora," 
in Philadelphia. The impression it 
made upon Washington, now retired 
from public office to the shades of 
Mount Vernon, is expressed in a letter 
dated March, 1798, addi-essed to John 
Nicholas. " With respect to Mr. Mon- 
roe's ' View of the Conduct of the Ex- 
ecutive of the United States,' " he 
wiites, " I shall say but little, because, 
as he has called it a ' view ' thereof, I 
shall leave it to the tribunal to which 
he himself has appealed to decide, first, 
how far a cori'espondence with one of 



its agents is entitled to the unqualified 
term he has employed ; secondly, how, 
if it is not, it is to exhibit a view there- 
of; thirdly, how far his instructions, 
and the letters he has received from 
that Executive, through the constitu- 
tional organ, and to which he refers, 
can be made to embrace the great points 
which he and his party are evidently 
aiming at, namely, to impress upon the 
public mind that fixvoritism towards 
Great Britain has produced a derelic- 
tion, in the Administration, of good 
will toward France." Of " the propri- 
ety of exposing to public view his pri- 
vate instructions and correspondence 
with his own government," the censure 
is still more emphatic. That Washing- 
ton read the book carefully, is witnessed 
by his copy of it left in the library at 
Mount Vernon, copioiisly annotated by 
his own hand, with critical marginal 
comments.' It is to the credit of Mon- 
roe, that when the immediate occasion 
of his remonstrance was over he took 
the opportunity to express his regard 
for the character and genius of both 
Washington and Jay. His eulogist, 
President John Quincy Adams, does 
justice to this fair-mindedness. After 
commending the saying of the great 
orator, statesman and moralist of anti- 
quity, when reproached for reconcilia- 
tion with a bitter antagonist, that he 
wished his enmities to be transient, and 
his friendships immortal, he adds, " thus 
it was that the genial mind of James 
Monroe, at the zenith of his public 
honors, and in the retirement of his 
latest days, cast off, like the suppura- 

' Many of them are given by Mr. Sparks, in Appeudis 
X. to his eleventh volume of Washington's Writings. 



76 



JAMES MONROa 



tion of a wound, all the foolinga of danger, and advised preparation tc 
unkindnosis, and tlio sovoritios of judg- | meet the emergency, while he ex- 
nient whieh might have intruded u])on erted every nerve to brinix his ne>A)tia- 



his better nature, in the ardor of civil 
discussion." It would have been a ran- 
corous nature indeed to carry into the 
Presidential chair, when Washington 
was in the grave, the memory of an 
acerbity obliterated not only by time, 
but which originally grcAV out of a 
policy that had been sanctionetl by ex- 
perience. 

Immediately after his recall, Mr. 
Monroe was returned to the Virsrinia 
Legislature, and speedily elected Gov- 
ernor of the State, holding the otlice for 
the constitutional term of three yeai-s. 
In the beginning of 1S03 he was again 
called upon by the Pi'esident to pnv 
ceed to France as minister extraordinary 
to take part in the negotiations alreadv 
commenced by the resident minister, 
Robert R Livingston, for the purchase 
or cession of Louisiana, which in the 
ttini of Euroi>ean fortunes had been 
yielded by Spain to France. The pro- 
vince was likely to prove a new instru- 
ment of power, or pla}i:hing in the 
hands of the successful soldier of fortune 
who directed the movements of armies 
at his will. It was somethimr nn>re 



tion to a successful issue. The ear of 
the Fii-st Consul would probably have 
proved deaf to all his ajjjieals of argu 
ment, his demonstrations of political 
economy and geography, and his prof 
fers of payment, had not the short 
peace of Amiens been suddenly inter- 
rupted by symptoms of the renewal 
of the European struggle. Xapoleon 
wanted his men at home, and wished 
to put money in his purse. At this 
opportune moment of aft'airs, Monroe 
arrived in Paris in the spring of 1S03, 
in time to share in the lucky negotia- 
tion already commenced by Livingston, 
and on the eve of proving successful. 
When the will of a nation rejioses in 
the breast of one man, the slow pro- 
gress of di]>lomacy may sometimes be 
gi'eatly shortened. Within a month 
of Moni-oe's arrival, on the 30th April, 
the treaty was concluded ceding Louis- 
iana to the Uniteil States, llavinc: al- 
ready, in our account of the life of Liv- 
insrston, jjiven some notice of the most 
important details of the negotiation, it 
is unnecessary to re{>eat them here. 
Sutlice it that a more advautaireous 



than a mere speculation that he wouhl I purchase has seldom if ever been made 
turn a portion of his force to the New I by any nation ; for it was not only an 
World. The troops were assembled to ' important acquisition in itself, larger 
embai'k for his American possessions I than the country had any reiison to ex- 



on the Mississipi)i, and there was a 
prospect of far greater difficulties as to 
the navigation of that river than had 
ever presented themselves in the feeble 
diplomacy and scant authority of the 
former Spanish owners. Livingston 
warned his government at home of the 



poet — not only did it include a vast 
present possession, but it contained 
within it, to vary the expression of Dr. 
Johnson, " the potentialities i»f power 
beyond the dreams of ambition,'' while 
for those whose insight did not extend 
to posterity, an immediate obstacle to 



JAMES MONROE. 



77 



commerce, cause of peril, and even pos- 
sible danger of disraeml)erment, was 
removed. The piii-cluiso of Louisiana 
was the glory of tliu administration of 
Jefferson. The statesman who in our 
day should procure the cession of Lower 
Canada from England, would not se- 
cure a parallel advantage. 

The treaty having thus been promptly 
negotiated at Paris, Mr. Monroe passed 
over to London, the successor to llufus 
King as minister plenipotentiary to 
Great Britain. lie entered immediately 
upon his duties, and was busy with the 
open maritime questions between the 
two nations, when he was called off by 
President Jefferson, to ])rocecd to Spain 
to assist Charles Pinokney, the Ameri- 
can minister at that coui't, in the nego- 
tiations resjiecting claims for damages 
and the settlement of the disputed 
Louisiaiui Ixmndary question. Though 
little resulted at the time from the dis- 
cussions, the diplomatic papers of Mon- 
roe remain, in the language of Presi- 
dent Adams, " solid monuments of 
intellectual power applied to national 
claims of right, deserving the close and 
scrutinizing attention of every Ameri- 
can statesnum." 

Mr. Monroe resumed his duties in 
London in 1805 — a period of growing 
difficulty for an American minister in 
Great Britain, bent as that nation was 
upon the destruction of the rights of 
neutral nations upon the seas. In this 
era of embarrassed diplomacy, he gained 
what admissions could be gained from 
the reluctant ministry of Pitt and the 
partial liberality of Fox, when, the ag- 
gressions of England upon the high 
seas pressing heavily upon American 



commerce, William Pinkney, the emi 
nent lawyer of Maryland, of great fame 
in diplomacy, was sent out in the sum- 
mer of 180G, as his coadjutor, or joint 
commissioner in the negotiation. Lords 
Auckland and Howick were appointed 
by Fox plenipotentiaries, and a treaty 
was in the beginning of 1807 conclud- 
ed, by no means what was desired on 
the part of America, but, as in the case 
of Jay, the best which eould be ob- 
tained under the complicated difficul- 
ties of the times, when England had 
her Avar interests to maintain, and the 
United States had not the means of en- 
forcing her positions. The special 
effort at the outset was to induce Eng- 
land to waive her pretensions to the 
impressment of seamen, an abandon- 
ment of her assumed rights which she 
was unwilling to make ; for this and 
other defects President Jefferson sent 
back the treaty for revisal ; l)ut Mr. 
Canning having succeeded to the min- 
istry, with less fixvorable disj^ositions 
than his predecessor, the negotiation 
was not resumed. 

Monroe's next public office was as Go 
vernor of Virginia for the second time, 
in 1810; and towards the close of the 
following year, he was called l)y Madi- 
son to the Secretaryship of State, a 
position in direct line to the Presi- 
dency. He continued in this relation 
to the Government during the remain- 
der of Madison's two tenns, discharg 
ing at the close of the contest vnth 
Great Britain, the additional duties of 
the war department. His efficiency in 
these relations, in which he displayed 
force and activity, marked him out as 
the successor to Madison in the Presi- 



78 



JAMES MONROE. 



(leiitial office. Indeed he Lad been 
pmminont as a candidate upon Lis 
rt'turn tVi)m Lis English mission; and 
Lis spirited and energetic conduct in 
furtLering tLe operations of tLe war in 
Cougi-ess, Lad greatly added to Lis 
Lold upon tLe public. lie was tLe 
advocate of a national policy, and 
wLen funds were needed in tLe embar- 
rassed financial condition of tlie times, 
pledged Lis own fortune, not mtliout 
future embaiTasment, for tLe public 
welfare. All tLis was not forgotten. 
He was now to reap tLe fi-uits of a 
long course of exertion in puT)lic life, 
stretcLing backward to Lis early days 
witL AVasLington at tLe Declai'ution 
of Independence, and tLe first cam- 
paign of tLe Revolutionary war. All 
questions were at rest, time and tLe 
cLanire of events Laving removed tliem 
from tLe national arena. TLe strutrgle 
over, tLe powers of tLe Constitution 
had in a great measure subsided, as tLe 
workincr of tLe instniment Lad been 
proved and precedents estivblisLed ; 
tLere was no longer a FreucL and Eng- 
lisL party to agitate tLe countiy. We 
can Lardly, at tLe present day, estimate 
tLe value of emancij)ation from tLe 
latter embarrassment of tLe days of 
WasLiuffton and tLe elder Adams. In 
tLe words of an eminent statesman, 
wLose experience covered botL eras, 
JoLn Quincy Adams, '' We Lave now, 
neitLer in tLe Learts of personal rivals, 
nor upon tLe lips of political adversa^ 
ries, tLe reproacL of a devotion to a 
FrencL or a BritisL faction. If we 
ii'joice in the triumph of European 
arms, it is in the victories of the Cross 
over the Crescent. If we gladden with 



the native countr}Tnen of Lafayette, oi 
sadden with those of Pulaski and Kos- 
ciusko, it is the gnitulation of freedom 
rescued from oppression, and the mourn- 
ing of kindred S])irit8 over the martyrs 
to their country's independence. We 
have no sympathies, but with the joys 
and soiTOws of patriotism ; no attach- 
ments, but to the cause of liberty and 
of man." 

Monroe was raised to the Presidency, 
in 1819, by a large majority of the 
electoral votes. His Inaugural, wLicL 
was well received by tLe public, intro- 
duced tLe topics of a new era; Le 
urged measures for tlie national defence, 
and favored tLe elements of national 
prosperity in internal improvements 
and Lome manufactures. His concilia- 
tory policy looking to tLe welfare of 
tLe country was evident. He followed 
up Lis declarations by an early Presi- 
dential tour tlirougL tLe Eastern States, 
of wLicL, says Mr. IliklretL, tLe Listo- 
rian, " emlnttercd and Lot-tempered 
leaders of parties, wLo for tLe last 
seven years Lad Lardly deigned to 
speak to eacL otLer, or even to walk on 
tLe same side of tLe street, met now 
witL smiling faces, ^'}^ng in extrava- 
gance of ofHcial adoration. TLe 'era 
of good feeling' Laving tLus begun, tLe 
way was rai)idly paved for that com- 
plete amalgamation of parties, whioL 
took place a few years after."* 

TLe cLief events of Mr. Monroe's 
first tenn were tlie admission of Missis- 
sippi, Illinois and Alaliama as new 
States into tlie Union, and tlie impor- 
tant cession of Florida by Spain, in 

■ History of the (Jnited Butes, 2d series III. 033. 



JAMES MOXROE. 



79 



1819, completing the work of annexa- 
tion commenced in the purchase of 
Louisiana. When the time for reelec- 
tion came round, so entire was the sub- 
sidence of party, that President Monroe 
was again chosen with but one dissent- 
ing vote, that of New Hampshire, 
which was given to John Quincy 
Adams. He continued to pursue a 
liberal policy of internal improvements 
within the limits of the Constitution, 
to forward the military defences on 
land, and the groAvth and employment 
of the navy at sea. The revolutionary 
movements in the Spanish provinces, 
in which he took an earnest interest, 
engaged much of his attention. The 
close of his administration was marked 
by the progress of Lafayette through 
the country, a subject to which he 
made special allusion in his last annual 
message. " A more interesting specta- 
cle," he said, with some reference per- 
haps to his own recollections, " it is 
believed was never witnessed, because 
none could be founded on purer princi- 
ples, none proceed from higher or more 
disinterested motives. That the feel- 
ings of those who had fought and bled 
with him in a common cause should 
have been much excited was natural. 
But the circumstance which was most 
sensibly felt, and which his presence 
brought to the mind of all, was the 
great cause in which we were engaged, 
and the blessings which we have de- 
rived from our success in it. The 
struggle was for independence and 
liberty, public and personal, and in 
this we siicceeded." President Moni'oe 
was a plain writer, not at all given to 
the graces of rhetoric ; had he been at 



all a man of eloquence, or trained in its 
liberal art, he could hardly have failed 
to impress some striking images of his 
past life in a retrospect of his memora- 
ble career. But this was not the na- 
ture or talent of the man. In the sim- 
plest words, he takes leave of the 
public; but to those who were ac- 
quainted with his life, as to himself, 
they were pregnant with meaning. " I 
cannot conclude this communication," 
ends his eighth annual message, " the 
last of the kind which I shall have to 
make, without recollecting, with great 
sensibility and heartfelt gratitude, the 
many instances of public confidence 
and the generous support which I have 
received from my fellow citizens in the 
various trusts with which I have been 
honored. Having commenced my ser- 
vice in early youth, and continued it 
since with few and short intervals, I 
have witnessed the great difficulties to 
which our Union has been exposed, 
and admired the virtue and courage 
with which they were surmounted." 

Mr. Monroe retired from Washing- 
ton to a temporaiy residence in Loudon 
County, where, time to a policy of 
usefulness which had governed him 
through life, he discharged the duties 
of Justice of the Peace. He was also 
one of the Board of Visitors of the 
University of Virginia, a body of nine 
appointed by the Governor every fourth 
year, who with the Rector have the 
entire direction of that important State 
institution. He was also chosen Presi- 
dent of the Convention which sat to 
revise the Constitution of Virginia, in 
the winter of 1829-30; but ill health, 
and the infirmities of advanced life. 



80 



JAMES MONROE. 



compelled him to retire from his seat 
before the adjoiirument of that l>ody. 
The (leatli of liis wife was uow added 
to his atHietion, and his home iu Vir- 
ginia being thus broken up, he removed 
to New York to dwell with his son-in- 
law, Mr. Samuel L. Gouverneur. His 
death liajipeneil sliortly after in this 
new home, on the Fourth of July, 1831, 
"the fliekering lamp of life holding its 
lingering flame as if to await the day 
of the nation's bii-th and glory."' He 
was buried with j)iiblic honors in the 
Marble Cemetery, in Second street, 
^vhere his remains reposed till the sum- 
mer of 1858, when they were removed 
at the instance of the State of Vir- 
ginia to the niral cemetery of Holly- 
wood, on the banks of James Eiver, 
overlooking the city of Eichmond. 
They again received public honors ti-om 
New Yoik, and were escorted to their 
final restinix-]>lace bv the Seventh Eeei- 
ment of New York State troops, gene- 
rally known as the National Guard. 
The time chosen fi>r the new interment 
was the anniversary of his death, but 
as that day fell on Sunday, the funeral 
celebration at Richmond took place on 
the fifth of July. An address was deliv- 
ered at the grave by Governor AVise of 
Virginia, in which, after enumerating 
the events of the long and honorable 
public career of the departed, he dwelt 
xiytou. the circumstances of his burial. 
" Venerable patriot 1" was his language, 
•^he found his rest soon after he 
retired. On the Fourth of July, 1831, 

' Joho Quincy Adanui 



twenty-seven years ago, lie departed, 
like Jeft'erson and Adams, on the anni- 
versary of Independence. His s])irit 
was caught up to heaven, and his a.shes 
were enshrined in the soil of his 
adopted State, whose daughter he had 
married; of that grand and pros])erous 
Commonwealtli Avhose motto is ' Excel- 
sior,' oui" sister New York, the Empire 
State of the United States of America 
Virginia was the natural mother of 
IMonroe, and New York Avas his mother- 
in-law ; Virginia by birth and liaptisni. 
New York by marriage and burial. 
This was well, for he gave to her inva- 
dei"S the glaived hand of ' bloody wel- 
come' at Trenton, and New York gave 
to him a ' liosi)itable grave.' Virginia 
respectfully allowed his ashes to lie 
lonff enoucrh to consecrate her sister's 
soil, and now has dutifully taken them 
to be ' earth to her earth and ashes to 
her ashes,' at home iu the land of his 
cradle." 

In pei-son President ^Monroe was tall 
and well formed, of light complexion 
and blue eyes. His long and accepta- 
ble public life bears Avitness to his 
personal and intellectual qualities. In 
the words of tlie sketch of the late 
Senator Benton just quoted, " his parts 
were not shining but solid. He lacked 
genius, but he possessed judgment ; and 
it was the remark of Dean SAvift, that 
geniiis was not necessary to the con- 
ducting of the atlairs of State ; that 
judgment, diligence, knowledge, good 
intentions and will were sufficient. 
Mr. Monroe was ;m instance of the 
soundness of this remark." 



V 




J, cj. . (Jid-iUVy^^ 



JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 



We have already traced the lineage 
of John Quincy Adams. He comes 
nobly heralded upon the scene of our 
Revolutionary annals. His sturing re- 
lative, the zealous and always consist- 
ent Samuel Adams, the very front and 
seed-plot of obstinate rebellion, had 
taught the mechanics of Boston to 
resist, and his eloquence had reached 
the ears of men of influence throughout 
the colony and nation. His father, 
John Adams, thirty-two years old at 
the time of his birth, deeply grounded 
in the history of constitutional liberty 
and with the generous flame of freedom 
bui-ning brightly in his bosom from 
boyhood, was already prepared for that 
warm, enlightened, steady career of 
patriotism — never swerving, always 
true to his land — which bore him aloft, 
the chosen representative of New Eng- 
land to the Congress of his country, 
and ultimately to her highest authority ; 
while the nation in turn adopted him 
her express image in the important ne- 
gotiations at three of the great courts 
of Europe. 

Nor should we forget the tender, 
heroic mother, the child of sensibility 
and genius, hardened into the maturity 
and perfection of the female character 
by the fire of the Revolution, the gen- 
tle Abigail, in whose fail' friendship 
11 



and sympathies and feminine graceful- 
ness posterity has an ever-living parti- 
cipation through the delightful pages 
of her " Correspondence." 

Of that family, in a house adjoining 
the old paternal Braintree home, in the 
present town of Quincy, at this immi- 
nent moment of the Revolution, John 
Quincy Adams, the eldest son, was 
born July 11, 1161. He derived his 
baptismal name from his great-grand 
father, John Quincy, the time-honored 
representative of Quincy in the Colo- 
nial Legislature. The name was given 
by his grandmother, as her husband 
was dying. The incident was not for- 
gotten by the man. He recurred to it 
vsdth emotion, fortified by a sense of 
duty. In a sentence cited by his recent 
biographer, the venerable Josiah Quin- 
cy, he says : " This fact, recorded by 
my father at the time, is not without a 
moral to my heart, and has connected 
with that portion of my name a charm 
of mingled sensibility and devotion. 
It was filial tenderness that gave the 
name — it was the name of one passing 
from earth to immortality. These have 
been through life, pei-jietual admoni- 
tions to do nothing unworthy of it." 

It is interesting to trace the progress 
of the child in his mother's correspond- 
ence, from the infant lullaby which she 

81 



82 



JOHN QTJINCY ADAMS. 



prattles to her husband, when " our 
daughter rocks him to sleep Mnth the 
song, ' Come, papa, come home to bro- 
ther Johnny.' The boy has just en- 
tered his eighth year, and his father is 
on his way to the Continental Congress 
at Pliiladolphia, Avhen she writes : " I 
have taken a very great fondness for 
reading Rollin's ' Ancient History,' 
since you left me. I am determined to 
go through with it if possible, in these 
my days of solitude. I find great ])lea- 
sure and entertainment from it, and I 
have persuaded Johnny to read me a 
page or two every day, and hope he 
w\\\, from his desire to oblige me, en- 
tertain a fondness for it." The child 
had some instruction at the village 
school, but he was especially taught by 
his father's law students, in the house. 
As the pressure of war increases, this 
resource is broken up. The anxious 
mother writes, " I feel somewhat lonely. 
Mr. Thaxter is gone home. Mr. llice 
is going into the army as captain of a 
company. We have no school. I 
know not what to do with John." In 
the summer of this year, 17Y5, " stand- 
ing," we are told, " with her on the 
summit of Penn's Hill, he heard the 
c^innon booming from the battle of 
Bimker's Hill, and saw the flames and 
smoke of burning Charlestown. Dur- 
insr the sieere of Boston he often climbed 
the same eminence alone, to watch the 
shells and rockets thrown by the Ame- 
rican army." * A letter from the boy 
himself, two years later, then at the age 
of ten, exhibits his youthful precocity. 
" I love," he writes to his father, " to 

' Quincj'H Memoir, p. 8. 



receive letters very well — much better 
than I love to Avrite them. I make but 
a poor figure at composition ; my head 
is much too fickle. My thoughts are 
running after birds' eggs, play and tri- 
fles, till I get vexed with myself Mam- 
ma has a troublesome task to keep me 
steady, and I own I am ashamed of 
myself. I have but just entered the 
third volume of Smollett, though I had 
designed to have got half through it 
by this time. I have determined this 
week to be more diligent, as Mr. Thax- 
ter \nll be absent at court, and I can- 
not pursue ray other studies. I have 
set myself a stint, and determined to 
read the third volume half out." He 
asks for directions to proportion his 
time between play and Aviiting, and in 
a postscript says, " Sir, if you will be 
so irood as to favor me with a blank 
book, I will transcribe the most remark- 
able occurrences I meet with in my 
readinsr, which will serve to fix them 
upon my mind." * 

In this letter we may read the aged 
man backward, from his steadfast, 
methodical desk in the House of 
Representatives, to the little boy at 
his mother's side in Braiutree. The 
"childhood shows the man as morn- 
ing shows the day." He was an old- 
fashioned, studious youth, nurtured 
amidst grave scenes of duty, early in 
harness, a resolute worker from his cra^ 
die to his grave. 

The next year the boy is taken with 
his father, on board the frigate Boston, 
on his first mission to France ; followed, 
in her first letter after the separation, 



• This lotlor nppe^ra from tho m»nusoript in Mr. Ed- 
ward ETcrctl'g cloqucDt Fanouil HaU eulogy on Adam*. 



JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 



by this noble injunction of tlie mother : 
" Enjoin it upon him never to disgrace 
his mother, and to behave worthily of 
his father." The boy is a little man on 
the voyage, secm-ing the favor of the 
French gentlemen on board, who teach 
him their language. In a perilous 
storm which arose, his father records 
his inexpressible satisfaction at his be- 
havior, " bearing it with a manly pa- 
tience, very attentive to me, and his 
thoughts constantly running in a serious 
strain." When they arrive in France, 
and take up their lodgings with Ben- 
jamin Franklin at Passy, he is put to 
school with the sage's grandson, Benja- 
min Franklin Bache, in the neighbor- 
hood. At the close of this short sojoui-n 
abroad, his father sums up his advan- 
tages : " My son has had a great oppor- 
tunity to see this country ; but this has 
unavoidably retarded his education in 
some other things. He has enjoyed 
perfect health from first to last, and is 
respected wherever he goes for his 
vigor and vivacity, both of mind and 
body, for his constant good humor and 
for his rapid progress in Fi'ench as well 
as his general knowledge, which, for 
his age, is uncommon." * On the return 
voyage, in the Sensible, the Chevalier 
de la Luzerne, the minister to the Unit- 
ed States, and his secretary, M. Marbois, 
" are in raptures with my son. They 
get him to teach them the language. I 
found, this morning, the ambassador 
seated on the cushion in our state-room, 
M. Marbois in his cot, at his left hand, 
and my son stretched out in his, at his 
right ; the ambassador reading out 

' Letters of John Adams to his wife, II. 64. 



loud in Blackstone's Discourse at his en- 
trance on his professorship of the com- 
mon law at the University, and my son 
coiTecting the pronunciation of every 
word and syllable and letter." ^ 

In November, father and son are at 
sea again in the Sensible, on their re- 
turn to France. This time they are 
landed in Gallicia, and pursue their 
way through the northern provinces of 
Spain to the French frontier. When 
the boy's Diary shall be published, 
tliat gigantic work which we are told 
he commenced on this second voyage, 
and continued, with few interi'uptions, 
through life, the world will doubtless 
get some picturesque notices of these 
foreign scenes, so hapjiily sketched in 
his father's note-book. The boy was 
again at school in France, and on his 
father's mission to Amsterdam, in the 
summer, was placed with an instructor 
under the wing of the venerable uni- 
versity of Leyden, where in January, 
1781, with Franklin's con-espondent, 
Benjamin Waterhouse, tlien a student 
of medicine^ he went before the Rector 
Magnificus and was duly matriculated. 
His father's object in taking him to 
Leyden was to escape "the mean-spirit- 
ed Avi'etches," as he describes them, the 
teachers of the public schools at Am- 
sterdam. 

The youth, however, was not long at 
the University. His father's secretary, 
Francis Dana, having received the ap- 
pointment of minister to St. Petersburg, 
in July, took the boy of fourteen with 
him as his secretaiy. "In this capa- 
city," says Mr. Everett, " he was recog- 

' John Adams' Sea Diary, June 19, 17Y9. Works, 
III. 214. 



84 



JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 



nized by Congress ; and there is, per- 
haps, no other case of a person so young 
being employed in a civil office of trust, 
under the government of the United 
States. But in Mr. Adams' career 
there was no boyhood." His know- 
ledge of Fi'ench, indeed, appears to 
have been of real service in interpret- 
ing between his chief and the French 
minister, the Marquis de Verac, with 
n'hom the negotiations were conducted 
at the Russian capital. In the autumn 
of the succeeding year he left St. Peters- 
burg fur a winter in Stockholm, and in 
the spring travelled alone through 
Sweden, Denmark and Germany to the 
Hague, where in INIay, 1773, ^ve hear 
of him in his father's correspondence, 
as again " pursuing his studies with 
groat ardor." He was present w\ih his 
father at the concluding peace negotia- 
tions at Paris, where he witnessed the 
signing of the memoi-able liuul treaty. 
The greater part of the next two years 
was passed in London and Paris, where 
he had now the society of liis mother. 
He is still the same vigilant student, 
while he assists his father'as his secre- 
tary. " He is a noble fellow," writes 
John Adams from Auteuil to Francis 
Dana at the close of 1784, "and will 
make a good Greek or Iloman, I hope, 
for he spends his whole time in their 
company, when he is not writing for 



" 1 



me. 

When his father was appointed the 
first minister plenipotentiary to Eng- 
land, it wa.s but natural to suppose that 
the secretary who had shared his hum- 
bler labors would have desired to j)ar- 
tici])ale in the full-blown honors of the 



■ John Adama' Works, IX. 627. 



royal court. There is not one youth in 
a thousand who would have resisted 
the temptation. For what does John 
Quincy Adams, at the age of eighteen, 
after his responsible duties in Russia, 
his independent sojourn in Stockholm, 
and intercourse with the l)rilliant Ame- 
rican circles in Paris, with Fiaiiklin at 
the centre, exchange the spleinlid pro- 
spect of life in the British metropolis ? 
For the leading-strings and restraints 
of Harvard, and a toilsome pupilage at 
the bar. The choice between inclina- 
tion and duty never was more temj)t- 
ingly presented. His own expression 
of the resolve is too memorable to be 
omitted. " I have been seven years 
travelling in Europe," he \\Tites, " see- 
ing the world and in its society. If I 
return to the United States, I must be 
subject, one or two years, to the rules 
of a college, pass thi-ee more in the 
tedious study of the law, before I can 
hope to bring myself into piofessional 
notice. The prospect is discouraging. 
If I accompany my father to London, 
my satisfaction would jirobably be 
greater than by returning to the United 
States ; but I shall loiter away my pre- 
cious time, and not go home until I am 
forced to it. My father has been all 
his lifetime occuj)ied by the interests 
of the public. His own fortune has 
suffered. His children must provide 
for themselves. I am determined to 
get my own living, and to be depend- 
ent upon no one. With a tolerable 
share of common sense, I hope in Ame- 
rica to be independent and free. Ra- 
ther than live otherwise, I would wish 
to die before my time." ' 

' Quincf 'a Uemoir, p. i. 



JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 



85 



With this creditable resolve he bore 
with him from his father a letter to 
BeDJamin Waterhouse, touching his ex- 
amination at Harvard. The solicitous 
parent, who had read some of the 
classics with his son, and forsaking the 
card-table, attempted even an introduc- 
tion to the higher mathematics, in 
which he failed, candidly admitting 
that these abstruse studies had quite 
departed fi-om him in thii-ty years' ut- 
ter unconsciousness of them, is anxious 
to imj^ress upon his friend those gene- 
ral acquisitions which might be ob- 
scured at an examination for want of 
some of the technicalities of instruction. 
Thus, while he had steadily pm-sued 
his studies, and made written transla- 
tions of the Jl^neid, Suetonius, Sallust, 
Tacitus' Agricola and Germany, and 
portions of the Annals, with a good 
part of Horace, he might be defective 
in quantities and parsing. Harvard, 
however, was not likely to be too inex- 
orable in her demands ; nor was the 
pupil likely to fell short of them. Af- 
ter a few mouths' readino- with the 
Eev. Mr. Shaw of Haverhill, he was 
admitted to the junior class in March, 
1786, and continuing in the University 
long enough to leave a fragrant memo- 
ry of his scholarship and good princi- 
ples, received his degree the following 
year. His commencement oration, 
which was published, was on " The Im- 
portance and Necessity of Public Faith 
to the Well-being of a Community." 

He now engaged in a three years' 
course of the study of the law, with 
Theophilus Parsons, at Newburyport, 
in which he must have heard much 
from his vigorous-minded preceptor, 



who afterwards became chief justice of 
the State, of the struggle then going on 
for the adoption of the Constitution, 
Adams was admitted to the bar in 
1790, and at once, as he long afterwards 
expressed it, " commenced what I can 
hardly call the jM'actice of the law in 
the city of Boston." For the first three 
years he had the usual opportunity of 
young lawyers for further study ; and 
unlike many of them, he availed him- 
self of it. A portion of his leisure was 
spent in the discussion of the impor- 
tant political questions of the day. He 
answered the plausible sophistries on 
government, of Paine's " Rights of Man," 
in a series of essays published in Rus- 
sell's " Columbian Centinel," signed 
Publicola; and in 1793, in the same 
journal, urged neutrality upon the 
country in the contest between Eng- 
land and France, and attacked the in- 
solent Genet in terms of wholesome 
indignation. This sei-vice, and doubt- 
less his father's great successes in Hol- 
land, led Washington's administration 
to appoint him, in 1791, minister to the 
Netherlands. His acceptance of this 
honorable position was at the cost of a 
rapidly developing legal practice, Ai-- 
riving in London in time to confer 
A'sdth Jay, whose British treaty was 
then getting adjusted, he reached Hol- 
land in season to witness the occupa- 
tion of the country by the French pro- 
pagandists. He remained at the Hague, 
availing himself of the opportunities 
and leisure of the place to add to those 
stores of knowledge ab-eady consider- 
able, which he had accumulated, with 
the exception of a few mouths passed 
in diplomatic business in England till 



86 



JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 



the summer of 1Y97, when he received 
the apjwintment of minister to Portu- 
gal. On his father's occupancy of the 
Presidency this was changed to the 
mission to Berlin. Before proceeding 
to his new post he passed over to Eng- 
land to claim the hand of a lady to 
Avhom he had become en^asced on a 
former visit, Miss Louisa Catharine 
Johnson, the daughter of the American 
consul at London. 

Adams felt at first a natural reluc- 
tance to accept an important office at 
the hands of his fatlier ; but his inde- 
pendence Avas reconciled to the step 
when he learned that it had been urtred 
by "Washington himself, who considered 
him fully entitled by his previous ser- 
vices, to diplomatic promotion. He 
now took lip his residence at Berlin. 
He was engaijed in this mission to the 
close of his father's administration. 
Durinf? this time he neirotiated a treaty 
of commerce with Prussia, and in the 
summer of 1800 made a considerable 
tour in Silesia. A number of letters' 
addi'essed to his brother in America, 
descriptive of this countiy, were pub- 
lished without his advice in the " Port 
Folio," and a few years after were 
issued in a volume by a London pub- 
lisher. In this collection they form a 
methodically \\Titten work, descriptive 
of the industry and resources of an in- 
teresting country with a comprehensive 
account of its liistory and geography. 

Adams also, durinsr his residence at 
Berlm, employed himself in several 
literary compositions, of which the most 
important was a j»oetical version of 
Wieland's " Obcron." He intended 
this for publication, but found that ' 



Sotheby, the English translator, had 
anticipated him. Several satires of 
Juvenal were also among his transla- 
tions. He moreover prepared for pub 
lication in America, a treatise of Frede 
rick de Gentz, " On the Origin and 
Principles of the American Revolution," 
which interested him by its appreciar 
tion of American princijiles of liberty, 
as contradistinguished from the license 
of the French Revolution. 

On his return to Boston, he turned 
his attention again to the study and re- 
sumed the practice of the law. He was 
not, however, suftered to remain long 
free from official emploj-ment. A few 
months after his anival he was called 
to the Senate of Massachusetts, and 
almost immediately chosen to the Sen- 
ate of the United States. It was at 
that period of the disintegration of the 
federal party when the old order of 
things was fast going out, and the new 
was not fully established. Adams, 
who was always inclined to think for 
himself, chose an independent position. 
In some things, as the constitutionality 
of taking possession of Louisiana, in 
the way in Avhich it was done, he oj> 
posed the administration ; in voting for 
the appropriation of the jnirchase mo- 
ney, he was •nnth it. When the jn'omi 
nent measiu-es of Jeftcrson's administra- 
tion in reference to England began to 
take shape in the Embargo, he was at 
variance with his colleague, Mr. Pick- 
ering. He Avas of opinion that submis- 
sion to British aggression was no 
longer a virtue. His course, which was 
considered a renunciation of federalism, 
created a storm in Massachusetts, where 
the legislatm-e, in anticipation of the 



JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 



87 



usual period, elected a successor to Ms 
senatorial term. Upon tHs censure he 
immediately resigned. 

His retii'ement was cliaracteristic 
enoua;li. He liad teen some time be- 
fore, in 1S05, chosen professor of rhet- 
oric and oratory on the Boylston foun- 
dation at Harvard, and had delivered 
his Inaugural the following year. The 
preparation of these lectures, in the de- 
livery of which he now continued to be 
employed, called for fresh classical stu- 
dies ; but to study he was never averse, 
and it is the memorable lesson of his 
career, that the pursuits of literature 
are not only the ornament of political 
life, but the best safeguards of the per- 
sonal dignity of the politician, when, as 
must sometimes happen with an inde- 
pendent man, he is temporai'ily thrown 
out of office by party distractions. If 
he is then found, as Adams always was, 
making new acquisitions of learning, 
and preparing anew for public useful- 
ness, he must and will be respected, 
whichever way the popular favor of the 
moment may blow. ]Mi\ Adams con- 
tinued his duties at Harvard, reading 
lectures and presiding over the exer- 
cises in elocution till the summer of 
1809. In the folio vs-ing year, his " Lec- 
tiu'es on Oratory, delivered to the Sen- 
ior and Junior Sophisters in Harvai'd 
University," were published at Cam- 
bridge. ]Mr. Edward Everett, who was 
at the time one of the younger students, 
bears witness to the interest with 
which these discoui'ses were received, 
not merely by the collegians but by 
various voluntaiy listeners from the 
neighborhood. " They foi-med," he 
says, " an era in the University, and 



were," he thinks, " the first successful 
attempt in the country at this form of 
instruction in any department of litera- 
ture." 

Immediately upon the entrance of 
INIadison upon the Presidency, Adams 
received the appointment of minister 
to Russia, the court which he had ap- 
proached, in his boyish secretaryship, 
dui'iug the Revolution, with Dana. He 
sailed from Boston early in August, 
1809, in a merchant ship, for St. Peters- 
burg ; but from various detentions, a 
rough passage, and the vexatious exam- 
inations of the British cruisers in the 
Baltic, then blockading Denmark, he 
did not arrive in Russia tUl October. 
The commercial embarrassments, in the 
complicated relations of the great Na- 
poleonic wars of the time, witnessed 
on the voyage, in the detention and 
oppression of American ships, fui'nished 
his chief diplomatic business at the 
imperial court. As much as any man, 
perhaps, he aided in solving these 
international difficulties. He had a 
cordial reception at court on his first 
arrival, and as time wore on, having 
prepared the way by his interviews 
with Count Romanzoff, the chancellor 
of the empire, received a profter of 
mediation from the Emperor Alexan- 
der, between Great Britain and the 
United States, in the war which had 
now broken out. The offer was ac- 
cepted at home, and in the summer of 
1813, he was joined at St. Petersburg 
by his fellow commissioners. Bayard 
and Gallatin, appointed for the negotia- 
tion. The mediation was not, however, 
accepted by Great Britain, though it 
proved a step forward to the final con- 



88 



JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 



ferences ami adjustment at Ghent. 
England proposed to treat directly at 
Gottenlnirg or London. The American 
government chose the former, and 
Adams was placed on the commission 
with Bayard, Chiy, Russell and Galla- 
tin, to negotiate. Before his arrival on 
the spot, he learnt that the conference 
was appointed at Ghent, whither he 
proceeded in the summer of 1814 ; and, 
after a protracted round of diplomacy, 
had the satisfaction of signing the 
Treaty of Peace the day before Christ- 
mas of that year. The scene of this 
event in that region which had wit- 
nessed his father's successes, and his 
early entrance upon the world, and 
above all, the event itself closing the 
gates of war, as his fiither again had 
signed the gi-eat pacification of 1783, 
must have been peculiarly gratifying, 
not merely to his patriotic pride, but 
to the love of method which character- 
ized his life. He may readily have 
recognized in it that covu^teous fate 
which so often marked the career of 
his famUy. K there is a political as 
well as a poetical justice, it was cer- 
tainly exhibited in the histoiy of John 
Quincy Adams, and his illustrious 
father. The coincidences are most 
striking. 

Adams having now closed his mis- 
sion to St. Petersbm-g, and having been 
appointed minister to Great Britain, 
was joined by his family from Russia, 
in Paris, where lie witnessed the return 
of Napoleon from Elba, and the com- 
mencement of the Hundred Days. It 
was one of those dramatic surprises of 
Parisian life, which we may expect to 
be faithfully rejiroseuted in Mr. Adams' 



Diary, when it shall be given to the 
world. We get, perhaps, a glimpse of 
his record in his biographer, Mr. Quiu- 
cy's naiTative. Napoleon, we are told, 
" alighted so silently, that Mr. Adams, 
who Avas at the Tiieatre Fran(;ais, not 
a quarter of a mile distant, was -una- 
ware of the fact till the next day, when 
the gazettes of Paris, which had show- 
ered execrations upon him, announced 
' the arrival of his majesty, the empe- 
ror, at Tiis palace of the Tuileries.' In 
the Place du Carousel, Mr. Adams, in 
his morning walk, sa^v regiments of 
cavalry belonging to the garrison of 
Paris, which had been sent out to 
oppose Napoleon, pass in review before 
him, their helmets and the clasps of 
their belts yet glowing with the arms 
of the Bourbons. The theatres assumed 
the title of Imperial, and at the opera 
in the evening, the arms of the Empe- 
ror were placed on the curtain, and on 
the royal box." 

Adams, again respecting his father's 
precedents, took up his residence with 
his family in London. He was the 
American representative at the coiui; 
of St. James for t^vo years, when he 
was called by President Monroe to his 
cabinet as Secretary of State. His 
time in England was passed in the best 
society of books, things and men. 
After concluding the commercial rela- 
tions of the treaty, he removed from 
London to a retired residence, at Bos- 
ton House, Ealing, nine miles distant, 
where he found time — he could always 
make time — for his liberal studies. 

The year 181Y saw him agaiti in 
America, at Washington, the leading 
member of the new administration, iu 



JOHN QUINCT ADAMS. 



89 



tlie direct line of promotion to tlie 
Presidency. Old party lines were be- 
coming, or liad already become extinct. 
It was a period of fusion, " an era of 
good feeling," as it came to be called 
on the quiet reelection of Monroe. 
The chief diplomatic measures of 
Adams' secretaryship, had reference to 
Spain. He was always spirited in his 
assertions of the foreign policy of the 
country, and on this occasion was 
greatly instrumental in the negotiations 
which ended in the cession of Florida. 
One of his special services was the pre- 
paration of an elaborate Report on 
Weiojhts and Measures, at the call of 
Congress. He devoted six months of 
continuous labor to this production, 
entering into the subject philosophi- 
cally, and in its historical and practical 
relations. The report was made to 
Congress in Februaiy, 1821. 

Adams continued to hold his secre- 
taryship through both terms of Mon- 
roe's administration. At its close, he 
was chosen by the House of Represen- 
tatives his successor in the Presidency, 
the vote being divided between Jack- 
son, himself, Crawford and Clay, who 
decided the choice by throwing the 
vote of Kentucky in his favor. His 
administration, says Mr. Everett, in the 
address already cited, " was, in its prin- 
ciples and policy, a continuation of 
Ml-. Monroe's. The special object which 
he proposed to himself was to bind the 
distant parts of the country together, 
and i^romote their mutual prosjierity 
by increased facilities of communica- 
tion." There were many elements of 
opposition at work against a reelection, 
in the complicated struggles of the 

12 



times. Adams encountered a full mea- 
sure of unpopularity and retired— in 
political disaster, as well as in diplo- 
matic triumph, like his father — -to the 
shades of Quincy — that long retire- 
ment which had only recently ended in 
death. The dej^arture from the world 
of the elder Adams, occurred in the 
second year of his son's Presidency. 

Unlike the father, however, he was 
not to sit brooding over the past. 
Work, persistent work, was the secret 
of John Quincy Adams' life. Of a 
tough mental fi])re, there was no such 
thing as defeat, while he had a mind 
to contrive, a tongue to utter, or a hand 
to hold the pen. He was sixty-two at 
his retirement from the Presidency, 
within a few years of the age when his 
father was succeeded by Jefferson. 
Both felt the storm of unjirecedented 
party spirit and annoyance, and both 
yielded to great popidar heroes. 

Literature a(j:am offered her hand to 
her assiduous son. " His active, ener- 
getic spirit," we are told, " required 
neither indulgence nor rest, and he 
immediately directed his attention to 
those philosophical, literary and reli- 
gious researches, in which he took un- 
ceasing; delight. The works of Cicero 
became the object of study, analysis 
and criticism. Commentaries on that 
master-mind of antiquity were among 
his daily labors. The translation of 
the Psalms of Da\-id into Ensrlish verse 
was a frequent exercise ; and his study 
of the Scriptures was accompanied by 
critical remarks, pursued in the spirit 
of free inquiry, chastened by a solemn 
reference to their origin and influence 
on the conduct and hopes of human 



90 



JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 



life. His favorite science, astronomy, 
led to the frequent observation of the 
planets and stars; and bis attention 
■was also called to agriciiltiu-e and hor- 
ticulture, lie collected and i)lanted 
the seeds of forest trees, and kept a 
record of their development ; and, in 
the summer season, labored two or 
three lionrs daily in his garden. With 
these pui'suits were combined sketches 
preparatory to a full biography of his 
father, -which he then contemplated as 
one of his chief future employments.'" 
He was, however, again soon called 
into action, being elected, in November, 
1830, by his district, to the House of 
Representatives. It was a novel spec- 
tacle — an ex-])resideut of the United 
States sitting in the lower house, but 
it was fidly in accordance -with the 
spirit of our institutions, Avhich honor 
all faithful servants of the public. 
Nor is it to be denied that at least 
equal talent may l>e called for, and 
equal influence exerted in the discharge 
of duties of public life, which to the 
eye of the world have a comparative 
inferiority of position. Power may Ije 
wielded hj a representative which may 
govern the administration itself. There 
are many acts of our legislative bodies 
more potential than the simple acquies- 
cence of the E.xecutive ; as the origina- 
tor of a measure or line of policy must 
be of more consequence than the instru- 
ment which gives it effect. For more 
than sixteen years Adams labored at 
his seat in the House. He was the 
most punctual man of the assembly, 
always on the alert ; cool, resolute, even 



' JosUh Quincy'e Biography, p. 175-6. 



pugnacious. There was scarcely a ques- 
tion, involving a point of morality, of 
national honor, or of literaiy and philo- 
sophical cultuie, on which his voice 
was not heard. He supported the de- 
mands of Jackson uj)on France ; he 
asserted and successfully maintained the 
right of petition against vast obloquy 
and opposition ; he was especially in- 
strumental in the establishment of the 
National Observatoiy, and the Smithso- 
nian Institution. A bare enumeration 
of his speeches, Amtings and addresses, 
would fill the space assigned to this 
sketch — lectures and addresses on 
points of law, government, history, 
biography and science, moral and 
social, local and national, before sena- 
tors and before youths, on anniversa- 
ries of towns, on eras of the State, 
eulogies on the illustrious dead, on 
Madison, Monroe, Lafayette, the oration 
at the Jubilee of the Constitution. 

As he had lived, so he died in har- 
ness. Death found him where he could 
have ^vished its approach, in the halls 
of Congress. His rolmst powers of 
body and mind had held out surjwis- 
ingly, as his vigor, no less than his 
venerable appearance in the House, 
enforced an authority not always read- 
ily conceded to the persistence in 
unpopular appeals of "the old man 
eloquent." He was approaching eighty : 
still in the exercise of his extraordinary 
focultios, when, in a recess of Congress, 
walkinix in the streets of Boston, in 
November, 1846, he was stncken by 
paral^'sis, from which, nevertheless, he 
recovered in time to take his seat in 
Congress early in the year. The House 
rose to greet him, and he was conducted 



JOHN QUmCT ADAMS. 



91 



to his chair with marked honors. He 
felt, however, his approach to the 
grave. There is a most touching evi- 
dence of this in the anecdote related 
by Mr. Everett. His journal, the diary 
of his long life, internipted the day of 
his attack, was resumed after an inter- 
val of nearly four months, -with the 
title, " Posthumous Memoir." Writino- 
in its now darkened pages, he says of 
the day when it was interrupted, 
"From that hour I date my decease, 
and consider myself, for every useful 
purpose to myself and fellow creatures, 
dead ; and hence I call this, and what 
I may hereafter write, a posthumous 
memoir." 

He continued in the House another 
year, when the final messenger came, 
on Monday morning, the twenty-first 
of Febi-uaiy, 1848. After passing a 
Sunday in hannony with his elevated 
religious life, he was obsei-ved to ascend 
the steps of the Capitol with his accus- 
tomed alacrity. As he rose, with a 
paper in his hand, to address the 
Speaker in the House, he was seized 
by a return of paralysis, and fell, 
uttering, "this is the last of earth — 
I am content." He was taken, as 
the House adjourned, to an adja- 
cent room, where he lingered over 
Washington's bii-thday till the twenty- 



third, when he died in the speaker's 
apartment, under the roof of the Cap- 
itol. His remains were taken to Bos- 
ton, reposed in state in old Faneuil 
Hall, and were quietly laid by the 
side of his parents, in a grave at 
Quincy. 

The lesson of such a life is plain. 
Labor, conscientiousness, religious duty; 
talent borne out to its utmost stretch 
of performance by the industrious im- 
provement of every opportunity; the 
selfrewarding pursuits of letters and 
science, in the gratification of an insar 
tiable desire for knowledge ; a constant 
invigoration of the moral powers by 
the strenuous discharge of duty ; inde- 
pendence bought by selfdenial and 
prudence, enjoying its wealth — the 
calm temper, the untroubled life — in 
the very means of acquiring it. How 
noble an illustration of the powers of 
life ! When the correspondence and Di- 
aiy, which Adams maintained through 
his long life, shall be published— when 
his wi'itings shall be collected fi-om the 
stray sheets in which they have been 
given to the vrinds, when the literaiy 
aids, due to his memory, shall be 
gathered in the library about his fair 
fame, there will be seen an enduring 
monument of a most honorable life of 
public service and mental activity. 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



Pew of the eminent men of America, 
whose acts are recorded in these pages, 
entere<l upon the public stage so early 
and continued on it so late, as the sub- 
ject of this sketch. To no one but him- 
self was it reserved to bridge over so 
completely the era of the Revolution 
with the latest phase of political life in 
our day. The youth who had sutlercd 
wounds and imprisonment at the hands 
of a British officer in the war of Inde- 
pendence, was destined long after, when 
a whole generation had left the stage, 
to close a second war with that poAver- 
ful nation by a tiiumphaiit victoiy ; 
and when the fresh memoiy of that 
had passed away, and men were read- 
ing the record in history, the same hero, 
raised to the highest honor of the State, 
was to stand forth, not simply Presi- 
dent of the United States, but the ac- 
tive representative of a new order of 
politics, reaping a new harvest of favor 
in civil administration, which would 
throw his military glor}^ into the shade. 
Nor was this all. These comjirehen- 
eive associations, much as they include, 
leave out of view an entirely distinct 
phase of the wonderful career of this 
e.xtraordinary man. A loide pioneer 
of the wilderness, he opened the path- 
way of civilization to his countr}'men, 
and by his valor in a series of bloody 



Indian wars, made the terrors of that 
fonuidable race a matter of tiadition 
in lands which he lived to see bloom- 
inij with culture and refinement. A 
hero in his boyhood, when Greene was 
leading his southern army to the relief 
of the Carolinas, he was in Congress the 
first representative of a new State, when 
Washington was President; and wheii 
the successors of that chieftain, Adams 
and Jefferson, had at length disajijieared 
from the earthly scene in extreme old 
age, he, a man more of the future than 
the past, sat in the same gi'eat seat of 
authority, with an influence not inferior 
to theirs. Sun"ounded by these circum- 
stances, in the rapid develojunent of 
national life, in the infancy and prog- 
ress of the countiy, if he had been a 
common man he would have acquired 
distinction from his position ; but it 
was his character to form circinustances 
as well as profit by them. There are 
few cases in all history where, under 
adverse comlitions, the man was so 
master of fortune. The simplest recital 
of his life carries with it an air almost 
of romance; his success mocked the 
wisdom of his contemporaries, and will 
tax the best powers of the future histo- 
rians of America in its analysis. 

Andrew Jackson was of Irish parent- 
age. His father, of the same name, be- 
ad 



AKDREW JACKSON. 



93 



longed to a Protestant family in humble 
life, which had been long settled at 
CaiTickfergus, in the north of Ireland, 
whence he brought his vnfe and two 
children to America, in 1765. They 
were landed at Charleston, South Caro- 
lina, and proceeded at once to the up- 
per region of the countiy, on the Ca- 
tawba, known as the Waxhaw settle- 
ment. They came as poor emigrants 
to share the laboi's of their fiiends and 
countrymen who were settled in the 
district. Andrew Jackson, the elder, 
began his toilsome work in clearing the 
land on his plot at Twelve Mile Creek, 
a branch of the Catawba, in what is 
now known as Union County, North 
Carolina, but had barely established 
himself by two years' labor when he 
died, leaving his mdow to seek a re- 
fusre with her brother-in-law in the 
neighborhood. A few days after her 
husband's death, on the 15th March, 
lYGT, she brought forth a third son, 
Andrew, of whose life we are to give 
an account. The father having left 
little, if any, means of support for his 
family, the mother found a permanent 
home with another brother-in-law named 
Crawford, who resided on a farm just 
over the border in South Carolina. 
There the boyhood of Jackson was 
passed in the pursuits incident to youth, 
in frontier agricidtural life. His phy- 
sical powers were developed by healthy 
sports and exercise, and his mind re- 
ceived some culture in the humble ru- 
diments of education in the limited 
schooling of the region. It is probable 
that something better was intended for 
liim than for most of the boys in his 
position, since we hear of his being at 



an Academy at Charlotte, and of his 
mother's design to prepare him for the 
calling of a Presbyterian clergjTuau. 
Such, indeed, might well have been his 
prosjjects, for he had a nature capable 
of the service, had not the war of the 
Revolution, now breaking out afresh 
in the South, carried him in quite a 
different dii-ection. 

In 1779 came the invasion of South 
Carolina, the ruthless expedition of Pre- 
vost along the seaboard pi-eceding the 
arrival of Clinton, and the fall of Charles- 
ton. The latter event occurred in May 
of the following year, and Comwallis 
was free to cany out his plan for the 
sul;)jugation of the country. Sending 
Tarleton before him, the veiy month 
of the suiTender of the city, the war of 
devastation was carried to the border 
of the State, to the very home of Jack- 
son. The action at the Waxhaws was 
one of the bloodiest in a series of bloody 
campaigns, which ended only with the 
final termination of hostilities. It was 
a massacre rather than a l)attle, as Ame- 
rican blood was pom-ed forth like 
water. The mauo-led bodies of the 
wounded were brought into the chiu'ch 
of the settlement, where the mother of 
the young Jackson, then a boy of thir- 
teen, with himself and brother — he had 
but one now, Hugh having already 
joined the jiatriots and fallen in the 
aftair at Stono — attended the sick and 
dying. That " gory bed " of war, con- 
secrated by the spot where his father 
had worshipped, and near which he re- 
posed in lasting sleep, summoned the 
boy to his baptism of blood. He was 
not the one to shrink from the encoun- 
ter. We accordingly find him on hand 



94 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



at Sumtor'a attack, in the following 
August, on the enemy's post at Hang- 
ing Rock, accompanying Major Davics' 
North Carolina troop to the fight, 
though he does not appear to have en- 
gaged in the battle. A few days after, 
Gates was defeated at Camden, and 
Mrs. Jackson and her children fled Ite- 
fore the storm of war to a refuge in the 
northern part of the district. The es- 
cape was but temporary, for, on her re- 
turn in the spring, her boys were 
entangled, as they could not well fail 
to be in that region, in the desultory, 
seldom long intermitted partisan war 
fare which afflicted the Carolinas. In 
the preparation for one of the frequent 
skirmishes between Whig and Toiy, 
the two brothers were surprised, es- 
caped in flight, were betrayed and cap- 
tured. It was on this occasion that the 
scene, often narrated, occurred, of the 
indignity offered by the British officer, 
met by the spirited resistance of the 
youth. Andrew was ordered by the 
oflBcer, in no gentle tone, to clean his 
boots. He refused peremptorily, plead- 
ing his rights as a prisoner of war, an 
argument which brought down a re- 
joinder in a sword-thrust on head and 
arm raised for protection, the marks of 
which the old hero bore to his last day. 
A similar wound, at the same time, for 
a like offence, was the cause of his bro-. 
ther's death. Their imprisonment at 
Camden was most cruel ; severely 
wounded, without medicine or care, 
with but little food, exposed to conta- 
gion, they were brought forth by their 
mother, who followed them and man- 
aged their exchange. Few scenes of 
war can be fancied, more truly heroic 



and pitiful than the picture presented 
by Mr. Pai-ton, in his faithful biogra- 
phy of this earnest, afflicted, j-atriotic 
mother receiving her boys fnjm the 
dungeon, " astoni.shed and homfied " at 
their worn, wasted apj)carancc. The 
elder was so ill as not to be aide to sit 
on horseback without help, and there 
was no place for them in those troubled 
times but their distant home. It was 
forty miles away. Two horses, with 
difficulty we may suppose, Avere pro- 
cured. " One she rode herself, llobert 
was placed on the other, and held in 
his seat by the returning prisoners, to 
whom his devoted mother had just 
given liberty. Behind the sad proces- 
sion, poor Andrew dragged his weak 
and weary limbs, bareheaded, barefoot- 
ed, without a jacket." Before the long 
journey was thus painfully accom- 
j)lished, " a chilly, drenching, merciless 
rain" set in, to add to its hardships. 
Two days after, Robert died, and An- 
drew was, happily, perhaps, insensible 
to the event in the delirium of the 
small pox, which he had contracted in 
prison. What will not woman under- 
take of heroic charity ? This mother 
of Andrew Jackson had no sooner seen 
her surviving boy recovered by her 
care, than she set off with two other ma- 
trons, on foot, traversing the long dis- 
tance to Charleston to carry aid and 
consolation to her nephews and friends 
immured in the deadly prison-ships in 
the harbor. She accomplished her er- 
rand, but died almost in its execution, 
falling ill of the ship fever at the house 
of a relative in the vicinity of the city. 
Thus sank into lier martyr's grave, this 
woman, worthy to be the mother of a 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



95 



Lero, leaving lier son Andrew, " before 
reacliing his fifteentli birtli-day, an or- 
phan ; a sick and sorrowful orphan, 
a liomeloss and dependent orphan, an 
orphan of the Revolution." * 

The youth remained with one of the 
Cra^vfords till a quarrel with an Ame- 
rican commissary in the house — this 
lad of spii-it would take indignity nei- 
ther from friend nor foe— drove him to 
another relative, whose son being in 
the saddlers trade, led him to some 
six months' engagement in this mecha- 
nical pursuit. This was followed by a 
somewhat eager enlistment in the %\'ild 
youthful sports or dissipations of the day, 
such as cockfighting, racing and gamb- 
ling, which might have wrecked a less re- 
solute victim ; Init his strength to get out 
of this dangerous current Avas happily 
superior to the force which impelled 
him into it, and he escaped. He even 
took to study and became a schoolmas- 
ter, not over competent in some re- 
8]iects, but fully capable of imparting 
what he had learnt in the rude old 

• 

field schools of the time. We doubt 
not he put energy into the vocables, 
as the row of lu-chins stood before him, 
and energy, like the orator's action, is 
more than books to a schoolmaster. 

A year or two spent in this way, 
not without some pecuniary profit, 
put liini on the track of the law, for 
which there is always an opening in 
the business arising from the unsettled 
land titles of a new country, to say no- 

' Parton's Life of Jackson, I. 95. Wc may here make 
a general acknowledgment for the aid we have received 
in this sketch from Mr. Farton's exhaustivo narrative. 
lie has far exceeded all previous biographers in the dili- 
gence of his investigations, and those who write after 
Uim of Jackson must Deeds follow in his steps. 



thing of those personal strifes and tra- 
ditions which follow man wherever he 
goes. The youth — he was yet hardly 
eighteen — accordingly ofiiered himself 
to the most eminent counsel in the re- 
gion — that is, within a hundred miles 
or so — ali2;htinof at the law oflice of ^Ir. 
Spence McCay, a man of note at Salis- 
bury, Xorth Carolina. There he passed 
1785 and the folloA\-iug j'ear, studying 
probably more than he has had credit 
for, his reputation as a gay young fel- 
low of the town being better remem- 
bered, as is natural, than his ordinary 
ofiice routine. He had also the legal 
instructions of an old wai-rior of the 
Revolution, brave Colonel Stokes, a 
o:ood laAvj'cr and mixtm^e of the soldier 
and civilian, who must have been quite 
to Andi-ew Jackson's taste. Thus for- 
tified, Avith the moderate amoimt of 
learning due his profession in those 
days, he was licensed and began the 
practice of the law. 

His biographer, Mr. Parton, pleased 
with having brought him thus tar 
successfully on the stage of life, stops 
to contemplate his subject at full 
lensjth. His points may be thus 
summed up : " A t;ill fellow, six feet 
and an inch in his stockings ; slender, 
but graceful ; tar fi'om handsome, 
with a long, thin, fair face, a high 
and narrow forehead, abundant, red- 
dish-sandy hair, falling low over it — 
hair not yet elevated to the bristling 
aspect of later days — eyes of a deep 
blue, brilliant when ai'oused, a bold 
rider, a capital shot." 

As for the moral qualities which he 
I adds to these physical traits, the pru- 
I deuce associated with courage and 



96 



ANDREW JACKSON, 



" that omnipotent something -which we 
call a presence," which faithful Kent 
saw in his old diserowueJ monarch 
Lear, as an a])peal to service and 
named " authority," — it is time enough 
to make these reflections when the man 
shall have jiroved them by his actions. 
He will have o]){)ortuuity enough. 

After getting his "law," the young 
advocate took a turn in the miscella- 
neous pursuits of the West, as a store- 
keeper at Martinsville, in Guildford 
County, keeping up his connection 
with his profession, it is reported, by 
performing the executive duties of a 
constable. He has now reached the 
age of twenty-one, when he may be 
said fairly to have entered upon his 
career, as he received the appointment 
of solicitor or public prosecutor in the 
western district of Noith Carolina, the 
present Tennessee. This carried him 
to Nashville, then a perilous journey 
through an unsettled country, filled 
with hostile Indians. He arrived at 
this seat of his future home, whence his 
country was often to summon him in her 
hour of need, in October, 1T88, and en- 
tered at once vigorously on the practice 
of his profession, which was very much 
an oll'-hand, extempore alfair, retpiiring 
activity and resolution more than learn- 
ing, especially in the main duties of his 
office as collector of debts. A large 
extent of country was to be traversed 
in his circuits of the wilderness, on 
which it was quite as important to be 
a good woodman as a well-informed 
jurist. Indeed, there was more fear of 
the Indian than of the O])posite Coun- 
eel. Jackson had the confidence of the 
mercantile community behind him, and 



discharged his duties so efficiently, and 
withal was so pro\adent of the future 
which his keen eye foresaw, that he 
prospered in his fortunes, and in a few 
years became a considerable landed 
proj)rietor. 

In 1791 an event occurred which l)e- 
came subsequently a matter of frequent 
discussion, and which certainly re- 
quired some explanation. Andrew 
Jackson married at Natchez, on the 
Mississippi, Mrs. Robards, at the time 
not fully divorced from her husband, 
though both Jackson and the lady be- 
lieved the divorce had been pronounced. 
The error, after the sifting which the 
affair received when it became a ground 
of party attack, and the blazing light 
of a Presidential canvass was thi'own 
upon it, is easily accounted for. The 
circumstances of the case may be thus 
briefly narrated : A Colonel Donelson, 
one of the founders of Nashville, 
brought with him to that settlement, 
not many years before, his daughter 
Rachel, who at the time of Jackson's 
an'ival was married to a IMr. Eobards, 
of Kentucky. The young "solicitor" 
found the pair living with the lady's 
mother, Mrs. Donelson, in whose house 
Jackson became an inmate. Ilobards 
appears to have been of a jealous tem- 
perament, and moreover of unsettled 
habits of living. At any rate, he had 
his home apart from his wife, and we 
presently find him, in the second win- 
ter after Jackson's arrival, applying as 
a Kentuckian, to the Virginia legisla- 
ture for a divorce. He procured an or- 
der for the preliminaiy proceedings, 
which were understood, or rather misun- 
derstood by the people of Tennessee, as 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



97 



an authoritative separation. With this 
view of the matter, as the explanation 
is given, the marriage took place. The 

livorce was legally completed in 1793. 
When Jackson then learnt the true 

tate of the case he had the marriage 
ceremony peifoi-med a second time. 
During the whole of the affaii- from 
the beginning, though he acted as a 
friend of the lady, he appears to have 
conducted himself toward her with the 
greatest propriety. Indeed, a certain 
innate sense of delicacy and pure chi- 
valrous feeling toward woman, was al- 
ways a distinctive trait of his character. 
It was constantly noticed by those 
most intimate with him, as a remarka- 
ble characteristic, in a man roughly 
taking his share in the wild pursuits 
and dissipations of the day. He was 
no doubt early an admirer of the lady, 
whose gay, spirited qualities and ad- 
venturous pioneer life were likely to 
fascinate such a man, and made no 
secret of his contempt for the husband, 
threatening on one occasion, when he 
was pestered by his jealousies, to cut 
out his ears. The stoiy of his marriage 
was of course vai-iously intei'preted, lint 
he allowed no doubtful intimations of 
the matter in his presence. It was a 
duel or war to the knife when any hes- 
itation on that subject was brought to 
his hearing. 

The region into which Jackson had 
emigrated, having passed through its 
territorial period, when the solicitor 
became attorney general, reached its 
majority in a State name and govern- 
ment of its oMii in 1796. He was 
one of the delegates to the convention 
at Knoxville, which formed the cousti- 

lo 



tution of Tennessee, and one of the two 
members of each county, to whom was 
intinisted the drafting of that instru- 
ment. When the State was admitted 
into the Union, Andrew Jackson was 
chosen its fii'st, and, at that time, only 
representative to Congress. He took 
his seat at the begiunino- of the session, 
at the close of the year, and was con- 
sequently present to receive the last 
opening message of George Washing- 
ton, it being usual in those days for 
the President to meet both houses to- 
gether at the commencement of their 
sitting, and deliver his speech in per- 
son — what is now the President's mes- 
sage. In like manner, according to the 
usage of the English Parliament, a re- 
ply was prepared and voted upon by 
each house, which was carried in j^er- 
son by the members to the President's 
mansion. The reply, in this instance, 
proposed in the House of Representa- 
tives by the Federalist committee, was 
thought too full an indorsement of the 
policy of the administration, and met 
■with some opposition from the Eepub- 
lican minority, Andrew Jackson ap- 
pearing as one of twelve, by the side 
of Edward Livingston, and William B. 
Giles, of Virginia, voting against it. He 
did not speak on the question, and his 
vote may be regarded simply as an indi- 
cation of his party sentiments, though, 
had he been an ardent admii-er of Wash- 
ington, he might, spite of his Tennessee 
politics, have voted ■with Gallatin for 
the original address. That he did not, 
does not imply necessarily any disaffec- 
tion to Washington ; but there was pro- 
bably little of personal feeling in the 
matter to be looked for from him. The 



98 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



independent life of the South and West 
had never leaned, as the heart of the 
Eastern and Atlantic regions, upon the 
right ann of Washington. The only 
question upon which he spoke during 
the session was in favor of assuming 
certain expenses incurred in an Indian 
expedition in his adopted State ; and 
the resolution which he advocated was 
adopted. His votes are recorded in 
favor of aj>propriations for the navy, 
and against the black mail paid to Al- 
giers. Ilis success in the Indian bill 
was well calculated to please his con- 
stituents, and he was accordingly re- 
turned the next year to the Senate. It 
was the first session of the new admin- 
istration, and all that is told of his ap- 
pearance on the floor is the remark of 
Jefferson in his old age to Daniel 
Webster, that he had often seen him, 
from his Vice President's chair, attempt 
to speak, and "as often choke ■^^'ith 
rajre." Mr, Parton adds to this recollec- 
tion the bare fact that he made the 
acquaintance of Duane of the " Au- 
rora," Aaron BmT and Edward Liv- 
ingston, lie retired before the end 
of the session, and resigned his seat. 
Private affairs called him home ; but 
he could not have been well adapt- 
ed to senatorial life, or he did not like 
the position, else he would have man- 
aged to retain it. It was an honor not 
to be thrown away lightly by an ambi- 
tious young man. 

We next behold him chosen by the 
legislature a judge of the Supreme 
Court of Tennessee — a post, one would 
think, of severer requisitions than that 
of United States senator, since a mem- 
ber of a legislative body may give a 



silent vote or be relieved of an onerous 
committee, while the occu])ant of the 
bench is continually called uj>on to ex- 
ercise the best faculties of the mind. 
It is to Jackson's credit that he lu-ld 
the position for six years, during which, 
as population flowed into the State and 
interests became more involved, the 
requisitions of the oflice must have 
been continually becoming more exact- 
inar. Its duties earned him to the 
chief towns of the State, where he was 
exposed to the observation of better 
read la\vyei"s than himself. As no re- 
cord was kept of his decisions, we have 
to infer the manner in which he ac- 
quitted himself from what we know of 
his qualifications. He no doubt made 
himself intelligible enough on sinq)le_. 
questions and decided courageously 
and honestly what he understood ; but 
in any nice matter he must have been 
at fault from Avant of skill in statement, 
if we may judge of his talents in this 
respect by his printed correspondence, 
which is ill spelt, ungrammatical and 
confused. 

His personal energy, however, doubt- 
less helped him on occasion, as in the 
famous anecdote of his arrest of Russell 
Bean. This strong villain, infuriated 
by his personal wrongs, was at war 
with society, and bade defiance to jus- 
tice. It was necessary that he should 
be brought before the court where 
Jackson presided, but it was pro- 
nounced impossible to arrest him. The 
sheriff and his posse had alike failed, 
when the difficulty was solved by the 
most extraordinary edict which ever 
issued from the bench. " Summon me," 
said the judge to the law officer. It 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



99 



waa done and the arrest was made. It 
is curious to read of a judge of the Su- 
preme Court planning duels and rough 
personal encounter with the governor 
of the State, as we do of Judge Jack- 
son in his quarrel with Governor Se- 
vier. No stronger evidence could be 
afforded of the imperfect social condi- 
tion of the country. It was a rude, un- 
finished time, when life was passed in a 
fierce personal contest for supremacy, 
and wrongs real and iraaginaiy were 
righted at sight by the pistol. This 
period of Jackson's career, including 
the ten years following the retu-ement 
from the bench, are filled ivith prodi- 
gious strife and altercation. The duel- 
ling pistols are always in sight, and 
dreary are the details of wretched 
personal quarrels preliminary to their 
use. 

The first of these encounters in 
which Jackson was a principal occurred 
as early as 1795, when he was emjafi^ed 
in com't and challenged the opjjosite 
counsel on the spot for some scathing 
remark, waiting his message on the 
blank leaf of a law book. Shots were 
exchanged before the parties slept. 
The most prominent of Jackson's alter- 
cations, however, was his duel with 
Dickinson, a meeting noted among nar- 
ratives of its class for the equality of 
the combat, and the fierce hostility of 
the parties. It was fought in 1806, on 
the banks of Red River in Kentucky. 
Charles Dickinson was a thriving young 
la^vye^ of Nashville, who had used 
some invidious expressions regarding 
Mrs. Jackson. These were apologized 
for and overlooked when a roundabout 
quarrel arose out of the terms of a 



horse race, which, after involving Jack- 
son in a caning of one of the parties, 
and his friend CoflTee in a duel with 
another, ended in bringing the former 
in direct collision -with Dickinson. A 
duel was an-anged. The principals 
were to be twenty-four feet apart, and 
take their time to fire after the word 
was given. Both were excellent shots, 
and Dickinson, in particular, was sure 
of his man. So certain was Jackson of 
being struck, that he made up his 
mind to let his antagonist have the 
first fire, a deliberate conclusion of 
great courage and resolution, based 
on a very nice calculation. He knew 
that his antagonist would be quicker 
than himself at any rate, and that if 
they fired together his own shot would 
probably be lost in consequence of the 
stroke he must undoubtedly receive 
from the coming bullet. He conse- 
quently received the fire, and was hit as 
he expected to be. The ball, aimed at 
his heart, broke a rib and grazed the 
breast bone. His shoes w^ere fiUinar 
with blood as he raised his pistol, took 
deliberate aim, re-adjusted the tiigger 
as it stopped at half cock, and shot his 
adversary through the body. Dickin- 
son fell, to bleed to death in a lona: 
day of agony. Jackson desired his 
own wound to be concealed, that his 
opponent might not have the gratifica- 
tion of knowing that he had hit him 
at all. Such was the courage and such 
the revenge of the man.^ 

After leaving the judgeship, Jackson 
— he was now called General Jackson, 

' The details of this affair with all its preliminaries, oc- 
cupy forty octavo pages of Mr. Farton's narrative— « 
curious and most instructive picture of the times. 



100 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



having been chosen by the field officers 
major general of the State militia in 
ISOl, gaining the distinction by a sin- 
gle vote — employed himself on his 
plantation, the Hermitage, near Nash- 
ville, and the storekee})ing in which he 
had been more or less engaged since 
his arrival in the country. In partner- 
ship with his relative, Coffee, he was a 
large exchanger of the goods of the 
"West for the native produce, which he 
shipped to New Orleans ; and it was 
for his opportunities of aiding him in 
procuring provisions, as well as for his 
general influence, that Colonel Burr 
cultivated his acquaintance in his west- 
ern schemes in 1805, and the following 
year. General Jackson, at first fasci- 
nated by the man, who stood well with 
the people of the countiy as a repur)li- 
can, introduced him into society and 
entertained him at his house ; but 
when suspicion was excited by his 
measures, he was guarded in his inter- 
course, and stood clearly forth on any 
issue which miijht arise, involvincc the 
preservation of the integrity of the 
Union. On that point no friendship 
could bribe him. Accordingly he 
offered his services to President Jeffer- 
son, and, receiving orders to hold his 
command in readiness, there was great 
military bustle of the major general in 
Nashville, raising and reviewing com- 
j>anies, to inteiTupt the alarming jm'o- 
ceedings of Colonel BuiT on the Ohio. 
Wlien it was found that there was no- 
thing formidable to arrest, Jackson's 
feeling of regai'd for Burr revived, he 
acquitted him of any treasonable in- 
tent, and resolutely took his part dur- 
ing the trial at Richmond. 



On the breaking out of the war witt 
England, in 1812, General Jackson was 
one of the first to tender his services to 
the President. He called togethta* 
twenty-five hundred volunteers and 
placed them at the disposal of the 
Government. The proffer was acce])t- 
ed, and in December Jackson was set 
in motion at the head of two thousand 
men to join General Wilkinson, then 
in command at New Orleans. The 
season was unusually cold and incle- 
ment ; but the troops, the best men of 
the State, came together with alacrity, 
and by the middle of Febniaiy were 
at Natchez, on the Mississippi. Jack- 
sou's tiieud and relative. Colonel Cof- 
fee, led a movmted regiment overland, 
while the rest descended the river. 
Colonel Thomas II. Benton also ap- 
pears on the scene as General Jackson's 
aid. At Natchez, the ]iarty was ar- 
rested by an order from Wilkinson, and 
remained in inaction for a month, when 
a missive came from the War Depaii;- 
ment disbandinc: the force. Thus was 
nipped in the bud the ai-dent longing 
of the general, and the promise of one 
of the finest bodies of men ever raised 
in the country. Jackson, taking the 
responsibility, resolved that they should 
not be dismissed till, as in duty bound, 
he had returned them home. He ac- 
cordingly led them back by land, and 
so solicitous was he for their welfare 
by the way, so jealous of theii" rights, 
carelessly invaded by the government, 
that his popularity with the men was 
unbountled. The fier}^ duellist, " sud- 
den and quick in quarrel," gained by 
his patient kindness and endurance on 
that march, the endearing appellation, 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



101 



destined to be of world-wide fame — 
Old Hickory. 

He had taken, as we have said, the 
responsibility in bringing home the 
troops. This involved an assumption 
of theii" debts by the way, for it was 
not certain, though to be presumed, 
that the government would honor his 
drafts for the expenses of transporta- 
tion. It did not. The paper was pro- 
tested and returned upon his hands. 
In this strait. Colonel Benton, going to 
Washington, undertook the manage- 
ment of the affair, and by a politic ap- 
peal to the fears of the administration, 
lest it should lose the vote of the State, 
secured the pajinent. As he was about 
returning to Nashville, warmed by this 
act of friendship, he received word 
fi'om his brother that General Jackson 
had acted as second in a duel to that 
brother's adversary — a most ungracious 
act, as it appeared, at a moment when 
the claims of gratitude should have 
been uppermost. The explanation was 
that Carroll, who received the challenge, 
was unfairly assailed, and apj:)ealed, as a 
friend, to the generosity of Jackson to 
protect him. Taking a duel very much 
as an everyday affau-, the latter proba- 
bly thought little of the absent Benton. 
The meeting came off, and Jesse Ben- 
ton was wounded. An angiy letter 
was ^vl'itten to Jackson by his brother, 
who came on to Nashville, venting his 
wrath in the most denunciatory tenns 
— ^for Benton's vocabulary of abuse, 
though not more condensed, was more 
richly furnished with expletives than 
that of his general. This coming to 
the hearing of Jackson, he swore his 
big oath, "by the Eternal, that he 



would horsewhip Tom Benton the first 
time he met hira." The Bentons knew 
the man, did not despise the threat, but 
waited armed for the onset. It came 
off one day at the door of the City Ho- 
tel in Nashville. There were several 
persons actors and victims in the affair. 
These are the items of the miserable 
business. The two Bentons are in the 
doorway as Jackson and his friend Co- 
lonel Coffee approach. Jackson, with 
a word of warning to Benton, brandish- 
es his riding-whip ; the Colonel fum- 
bles for a pistol ; the General presents 
his own, and at the instant receives in 
his arm and shoulder a slug and bullet 
from the barrel of Jesse Benton, who 
stands behind. Jackson is thus di'opped, 
weltering in his blood •with a desperate 
•wound. Coffee thereupon thinking 
Tom Benton's pistol had done the 
work, takes aim at him, misses fire, and 
is makinsr for his victim with the butt 
end, when an opportune cellar stair- 
way opens to the retreating Colonel, 
who is precipitated to the bottom. 
Meanwhile Stokely Hays aiTives, intent 
on plunging the sword, which he drew 
from his cane, into the body of Jesse 
Benton. He deals the thrust with unc- 
tion, but striking a button, its force 
is lost and the weapon shivered. A 
struo'f^le on the floor then ensues be- 
tween the jiarties, the fatal dagger of 
Hays being raised to transfix his wound- 
ed victim, when it is intercepted by 
a bystander, and the murderous and 
bloody work is over. Such was the 
famous Benton feud. It laid Jackson 
ingloriously up for several weeks, and 
drove Colonel Benton to Missouri 
There was a long interval of mutual 



102 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



hostile feeling, to be succeeded by a 
devoted friendship of no ordinary in- 
tensity. 

This Benton affray took place on 
the 4th of September, 1813. A few 
days before, on the 30th of August, oc- 
curred the massacre by the Creek In- 
dians of the garrison and inhabitants 
at Fort Muums, a frontier post in the 
southern pai-t of Alabama. A large 
number of nei^hborinjj settlers, anxious 
for their safety, had taken refuge with- 
in the stookaele. The assailants took 
it by surprise, and though the defend- 
ers fought with courage, but few of its 
inhabitants escajied the terrible car- 
nage. The Indians were led by a re- 
doubtable chieftain, named Weathers- 
ford, the son of a white man and a Se- 
minole mother, a leader of sagacity, 
of great bravery and heroism, and 
of no ordinary magnanimity. lie was 
unable, however, to arrest, as he would, 
the fiendish atrocities committed at 
the fort. Women and children were 
sacrificed in the horrible racje for slauiih- 
ter, and the bloody deed Avas aggrava- 
ted by the most indecent mutilations. 
A cry was spread through the South- 
west similar to that raised in our own 
day in India, at the Sepoy brutalities. 
Vengeance was demanded alike for 
safety and retribution. On the 18th 
of Sej)tembor the news had reached 
Nashville, four hundred miles distant, 
and General Jackson was called into 
consultation as he sat, utterly disabled 
with his Benton wounds, in his sick- 
room. It was resolved that a large 
body of volunteers should be sum- 
moned, and, ill as he was, he promised 
to take command of them when they 



were collected. Still suffering severely, 
before they were ready to move he 
joined them at Fayetteville, the jjlace 
of meeting. lie arrived in camp the 
seventh of October, and began his 
work of organizing the comi)anies. 
Ever}'thing was to be done in drill and 
preparation for the advance into a vol- 
dcrness Avhere no supplies were to lie 
had ; yet in four days, a report having 
reached him that the enemy were ap- 
pro.aohing, he led his troops, about a 
thousand men, an afternoon march of 
thirty-two miles in six hours to Ilunts- 
ville. The Indians, however, were not 
yet at hand, and joining Colonel Coffee, 
whom he had sent forward Avith a cav- 
alry command, on the banks of the 
Tennessee, he was reluctantly com- 
pelled to wait there too long a time for 
his impatience, till something could be 
done in providing stores, in which the 
army was lamentably deficient. A 
post was established on the river 
named Fort Deposit, whence Jackson, 
still inadecpiately }>rovided, set out, on 
the twenty-fifth of the month, on his 
southward march, and carried his force 
to an encampment at Ten Islands, 
on the Coosa River. There Coffee 
was detached to attack a body of In- 
dians at their town of Talluschatches, 
He performed the service with equal 
skill and gallantry ; and though the 
Creeks, as thej" did throughout the 
Avar, fought -with extraordinary valor, 
urged on by religious fanaticism, he 
gained a brilliant victory. One of the 
incid(Mits of the bloody field was the 
accidental slauirhter of an Indian mo- 
ther clasping her infent to her breast 
The child was earned to Jackson, who 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



103 



had it tenderly cared for, and finally 
taken to his home. The boy, named 
Lincoyer, was brought up at the Her- 
mitage, and suitably provided for by 
the general. 

The next adventure of the campaign 
was an expedition led by Jackson him- 
self to relieve a camp of friendly In- 
dians at Talladega, invested by a large 
band of hostile Creeks. The very 
night on which he received the message 
asking aid, brought by a runner who 
had escaped from the beleaguered fort 
in disguise, he started with a force of 
two thousand men, eight hundred of 
whom were mounted, and in a long 
day's march through the wilderness 
traversed the intervening distance, 
some thirty miles, to the neighborhood 
of the fort. The dawn of the next 
morning saw him apj^roaching the ene- 
my — a thousand picked warriors. Dis- 
posing the infantry in three lines, he 
placed the cavalrj^ on the extreme 
wings, to advance in a curve and in- 
close the foe in a circle. A guard was 
sent forward to challenge an engage- 
ment. The Indians received its fire 
and followed in pursuit, when the front 
line was ordered up to the combat. 
There was some misunderstanding, and 
a portion of the militia composing it 
retreated, when the general promptly 
supplied their place by dismounting a 
corps of cavalry kept as a reserve. 
The militia then rallied, the fire became 
general, and the enemy were repulsed 
in every direction. They were pursued 
by the cavalry and slaiightered in great 
numbers, two hundred and ninety 
being left dead on the field and many 
more bore the mai'ks of the engagement. 



The American loss was fifteen killed 
and eighty-five wounded. The friendly 
Creeks came forth from the fort to 
thank their deliverers, and share with 
them theii' small supjjly of food. 

This was emphatically, contrary to all 
the rules of war, a hungry campaign. 
On his return to his camp, to which, 
having been fortified, the name Fort 
Strother was given, Jackson found the 
supplies which he had urgently demand- 
ed, and which he so much needed, not 
yet arrived. His private stores, which 
had been bought and forAvarded at his 
expense, were exhausted to relieve the 
wants of his men. He himself, mth 
his oflSlcers, subsisted on imseasoued 
tripe, like the poor and proud Spanish 
grandee in the Adventure of Lazarillo 
de Tormes, eulogizing the horse's foot, 
maintaining that he liked nothing bet- 
ter. The story is told of a starving 
soldier approaching him at this time 
with a request for food. " I will give 
you," said the general, " what I have," 
and with that he drew from his pocket 
a few acorns, " my best and only fare." * 

Food, food, was the constant cry of 
Jackson in his messages to the rulers 
in the adjoining States. It was long 
in comins:, and in the meanwhile the 
commander, eager to follow up his suc- 
cesses and close the war, was con- 
demned to remain in inactivity — the 
hardest trial for a man of his temper. 
Scant subsistence and the hardships 
common to all encampments brought 
discontent. The men longed to be at 
home, and symptoms of revolt began 
to api^ear. The militia actually com- 

> Eaton's Life of Jnckson, p. 66. 



104 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



menced their niarcli backward ; but 
they liad reckoned without tlieir loader. 
On starting they found the volunteers 
drawn up to ojij)ose theii" progress, and 
abandoned their design. Such was the 
force of Jackson's authority in the 
camp, that when these volunteers, Avho 
•were in reality disappointed that the 
movement did not succeed, attempted 
in their turn to escape, they were in 
like manner met bj' the militia. The 
occasion required all Jackson's ingenii- 
ity and resolution, and ])oth Avere freely 
expended. His iron will had to yield 
something in the way of compromise. 
Appealing to his men, he secured a 
band of the most impressible to remain 
at Fort Strother, while he led the rest 
in quest of j)ro visions toward Fort De- 
posit. The understanding was that 
they were to return \vith him when 
food was obtained. They had not 
gone far when they met a drove of cat- 
tle on their way to the camp. A feast 
was enjoyed on the spot ; but the men 
were still intent on going homeward. 
Nearly the whole brigade was I'eady 
for motion, when Jackson, who had 
ordered their return, was iufornied of 
their intention. His resolution was 
taken on the instant. He summoned 
his staff, and gave the command to fire 
on the mutineers if they attempted to 
proceed. One comjiany, alreatly on 
the way, was thus turned back, when, 
going forth alone among the men, he 
found the movement likely to become 
general. There was no choice in his 
mind but resistance at the peril of his 
life, for the men once gone, the whole 
campaign was at an end. Seizing a 
musket, he rested the barrel ou the 



neck of his horse — he was unable, from 
his wound, to use his left arm — and 
threatened to shoot the first who should 
attempt to advance. An intimation of 
this kind from Jackson was never to be 
despised. The men knew it, and re- 
turned to their post. They yielded to 
the energy of a superior mind, but 
they were not content. Their next 
resource was, an assertion of the termi- 
nation of their year's enlistment, which 
they said would expire on the tenth of 
December ; but here they were met by 
the astute la^\^•er, who reminded them 
that they were pledged to serve one 
year out of two, and that the year 
must be an actual service in the field 
of three hundred and sixty-five days. 
The ai-gument, however, failed to con- 
vince, and as the day approached the 
men were more resolute for theii* de- 
parture. They addressed a courteous 
letter to their commander, to which he 
replied in an earnest expostulatory ad- 
dress. " I know not," he said, " what 
scenes will be exhibited on the tenth 
instant, nor what consequences are 
to flow from them here or elsewhere ; 
but as I shall have the consciousness 
that they are not imputable to any mis- 
conduct of mine, I trust I shall have 
the firmness not to shrink from a dis- 
charge of my duty." The appeal was 
not heeded, and on the evening of the 
ninth the signs of mutiny were not to 
be mistaken. The general took his 
measures accordingly. He ordered all 
oflicers and soldiers to their duty, and 
stationed the artillery company with 
their two pieces in front and rear, while 
he posted the militia on an eminence 
in advance. He himself rode alonii 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



105 



the line and addressed the men, in 
their companies, with great earnestness. 
He talked of the disgrace theii- conduct 
would bring upon themselves, their 
fixmilies and country ; that they would 
succeed only by passing over his dead 
body : while he held out to them the 
prospect of reinforcements. "I am 
too," he said, " in daily expectation of 
receiving information whether you may 
be discharged or not ; until then, you 
must not and shall not retire. I have 
done with entreaty ; it has been used 
long enough. I will attempt it no 
more. You must now determine whe- 
ther you will go, or peaceably remain : 
if you still persist in your determina- 
tion to move forcibly off, the point be- 
tween us shall soon be decided." There 
was hesitation. He demanded a posi- 
tive answer. Again a slight delay. 
The artillerist was ordered to prepare 
the match. The word of sui-render 
passed along the line, and a second 
tiine the rebellious volunteers suc- 
cumbed to the will of theii- master. 
These, it should be stated, were the 
very men, the original company, whom 
Jackson had carried to Natchez, and 
for whose welfare on theii' retui-n he 
had pledged his property. But in vain 
he reminded them of the fact, and ap- 
pealed to theu" sense of generosity to 
remain in the service. He gave them 
finally the choice to proceed to Tennes- 
see or remain with him. They chose 
the former, and he let them go. 

The men he had left -vdth him were 
enlisted for short periods, or so under- 
stood it. There was little to build 
upon fur the campaign, and he was 
even advised by the Governor of Teu- 

14 



nessee, to abandon the prosecution of 
the war, at least for the present, or till 
the administration at Washington 
should provide better means for carry- 
ing it on. This was not advice, des- 
perate as aj)peared the situation, to be 
accepted by Jackson. His reply was 
eminently characteristic — charged ^vith 
a determined self-reliance which he 
sought to infuse into his coiTespondent. 
"Take the responsibility" is written 
all over it. "If you would preserve 
your reputation," he writes, " or that of 
the State over which you preside, you 
must take a straightforward, deter- 
mined com-se ; regardless of the ap- 
plause or censure of the populace, and 
of the forebodings of that dastardly 
and designing crew, who, at a time like 
this, may be expected to clamor con- 
tinually in joxa' ears. The very 
wretches who now beset you with evil 
counsel, will be the fii'st, should the 
measiu'es which they recommend event- 
uate in disaster, to call down impreca- 
tions on your head, and load you with 
reproaches. Yovir country is in dan- 
ger: apply its resources to its defence! 
Can any course be more plain ? Do 
you, my fiiend, at such a moment as 
the present, sit with your arms folded 
and your heart at ease, waiting a solu- 
tion of yoiu' doubts and a definition 
of youi" powers ? Do you wait for spe- 
cial instraction 6-om the Secretary of 
War, which it is impossible for j-ou to 
receive in time for the danger that 
threatens ?" The governor had said 
that his power ceased with the call for 
troops. " Widely different," replies 
Jackson, " is my opinion. You are to 
see that they come when they are 



106 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



called. Of what avail is it," lie urgea 
with an earnestness savoring of sarcasm, 
" to give an onler if it be never executed, 
and may be disobeyed ^vith impunity ? 
Is it by empty mandates that we can 
hope to conquer our enemies and save our 
defenceless frontiers from butchery and 
devastation? Believe me, my valued 
friend, there are times when it is highly 
criminal to shrink from responsibility 
or scruple about the exercise of our 
powers. There are times when we 
must disregard punctilious etiquette 
and think only of serving our country." 
He also presented, in like forcible 
terms, the injiu-ious effects of abandon- 
ing the frontiers to the mercy of the 
savage. The governor took the advice 
to heart, pointedly as it Avas given ; he 
ordered a fresh force of twenty-five 
huncb-ed militia into the field, and 
seconded General Jackson's call upon 
General Cocke for the troops of East 
Tennessee. Meantime, however, Jack- 
son's force at Fort Strother was re- 
duced to a minimum ; the militia, en- 
listed for short terms, would go, and 
there was great difficulty in getting 
new recruits on to supply their places. 
The brave Coffee failed to reenlist his 
old regiment of cavalry. There was a 
strange want of alacrity through the 
early period of this war, in raising and 
disciplining the militia. With a pro- 
per force at his command, duly equipped 
and su]i]ilied, Jackson would have 
brought the savages to tenns in a 
month. As it was, nearly a year 
elapsed ; but the fighting period, when 
he was once ready to move, was of 
short duration. 

While he was waiting for the new 



Tennessee enlistments, he detennined 
to have one bnish Avith the enemy with 
such troops as he had. He according- 
ly set in motion his little force of eight 
hundred raw recruits on the fifteenth 
of January, on an exciu-sion into the 
Indian ten-itory. At Talladega he was 
joined by between two and three hun- 
dred friendly Cherokees and Creeks, 
with whom he advanced against the 
foe, who were assembled on the banks 
of the Tallapoosa, near Emuckfau. He 
reached their neighborhood on the 
night of the twenty-first, and prepared 
his camp for an attack before morning. 
The Indians came, as was expected, 
about dawn ; were repulsed, and when 
daylight afforded the opportunity, 
were pm-sued -with slaughter. There^ 
was another sharp conflict al)out the 
middle of the day, which ended in a 
Anctoiy for the Americans, at some cost 
to the conquerors, who, ill prepared to 
keep the field, Hioved back toward the 
fort. Enotochopco Creek was reached 
and crossed by a part of the force, 
when the Indians fell upon the rear 
guard, who turned and fled ; the artil- 
lery, however, still left on that side of 
the river, gave the savages a warm re- 
ception, "vvhen they were pursued by 
the cavalry, which had recrossed the 
stream. 

By this time the countiy was roused 
to some adequate support of its gene- 
ral in the field. At the end of Feliiii- 
ary, Jackson was reinforced by the ar- 
rival at Fort Strother of a force from 
East and West Tennessee of about five 
thousand men. By the middle of the 
next month he was in motion, terribly 
in earnest for a short and eunmiary ex.- 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



107 



th-pation of the savages. The execu- 
tion of John Woods, a Tennessee 
youth who had shown some insubordi- 
nation in camp, was a prelude to the 
approaching tempest. The commander 
thought it necessary to the unity and 
integrity of the service. Fortunately 
for the pm-poses of this new invasion, 
the chief warriors of the nation assem- 
bled themselves at a jjlace convenient 
enough for defence, but where defeat 
was ruin. It was at Tohopeka, an In- 
dian name for the horse-shoe bend of 
the Tallapoosa, an area of a huncbed 
acres inclosed by the deep waters of 
the river and protected at its junction 
with the land by a heavy breastwork 
of logs pierced for musketry and skill- 
fully arranged for defence. Within 
this inclosui-e, at the time of Jackson's 
arrival, on the twenty-seventh of March, 
with less than three thousand men, in- 
cluding a regiment of regulars under 
Colonel Williams, were assembled some 
eight or nine hundred warriors of the 
Creeks. The plan of attack was thus 
arranged. Sending General Coffee to 
the opposite side of the river to effect 
a diversion in that quarter, Jackson 
himself directed the assault on the 
works at the neck. He had two field 
pieces, ^vhich were advantageously 
planted on a neighboring eminence. 
His main reliance, however, was at 
close quarters with his musketry. On 
the river side General Coffee succeeded 
in inclosing the bend and cutting off 
escape by the canoes, which he cap- 
tui-ed by the aid of his fi-iendly In- 
dians, and used as a means of landing 
in the rear of the enemy's position. 
This success was the signal for the as- 



sault in front. Regulars and voluu- 
teers, eager for the contest, advanced 
boldly up. Reaching the rampart, the 
struggle was for the port-holes, through 
which to fire, musket meeting musket 
in the close encounter. " Many of the 
enemy's balls," says Eaton, "were 
welded between the muskets and bay- 
onets of our soldiers. Major Monto-o- 
mery, of Williams's regiment, led the 
way on the rampart, and fell dead sum- 
moning his men to follow. Others 
succeeded and the fort was taken. In 
vain was the fight kept up within, from 
the shelter of the fallen trees, and 
equally hopeless was the attempt at 
escape by the river. No quarter was 
asked, and none given, for none would 
be received. Women and children 
were the only prisoners. It was a des- 
perate slaughter. Nearly the whole 
band of Indians perished, selling their 
lives as dearly as possible. The Ame- 
rican loss was fifty-five killed and about 
thrice the number wounded ; but the 
Cherokee dead were to be counted by 
hundreds. Having strack this feai-ftil 
blow, Jackson retired to Fort Williams, 
Avhich he had built on his march, and 
issued, as was his wont — he was quite 
equal to Napoleon in this respect — an 
inspiriting address to his troops. If 
the words are not always his, the sen- 
timent, as his biographer- suggests, is 
ever Jacksouian. Somebody or other 
was always found to give expression to 
his ardent ejaculations, which need 
only the broad theatre of a European 
battlefield to vie with the thrilling 
manifestoes of Bonaparte. " The fiends 
of the Tallapoosa will no longer m;n-- 
der our women and children, or disturb 



108 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



the quiet of our borders. Their mid- 
niffht flaiiil>eaux will no more illumine 
their council-house, or shine upon the 
victim of their infernal orgies." The 
gratifying event was nearer even than 
the general anticipated. He looked 
for a further struggle, but the si)irit of 
the nation was broken. Advancing 
southward, he joined the troops from 
the south at the junction of the Coosa 
and Tallapoosa, the '"Holy Ground" 
of the Indians, where he received their 
offers of submission. The brave chief- 
tain, Weathersford, voluntarily surren- 
dered himself. A portion of the In- 
dians fled to Florida. Those who 
were left were ordered to the northern 
parts of Alabama, Fort Jackson being 
established at the confluence of the 
rivers to cut off their communication 
with foreign enemies on the seaboard. 
The war had originally grown out of 
the first EnEflish successes and the 
movements of Tecumseh on the north- 
ern frontier, and was assisted by Span- 
ish sjTupathy on the Gulf. 

Jackson was now at liberty to retirrn 
to Nashville vrith the troops who had 
shared his victories. He had of course 
a triumphant reception in Tennessee, 
and his services were rewarded at 
Washington by the appointment of 
major general in the army of the Unit- 
ed States, the resignation of General 
Hamson at the moment placing this 
high honor at the disposal of the gov- 
ernment. It was an honor well de- 
served, earned by long and patient ser- 
vice under no ordinary difficulties — 
difficulties inherent to the position, 
aggravated by the delays of others, 
and some, formidable enough to most 



men, which he carried ^vith him 
bound up in his own frame. We so 
naturally associate health and bodily 
vigor with brilliant military achieve- 
ments that it reqiiiros an effort of the 
mind to figure Jackson as he really 
was in these campaigns. We have 
seen him carrying his arm in a sling, 
unable to handle a musket when he 
confronted his retiring army ; but that 
was a slight inconvenience of his 
wound compared "with the gnawing 
disease which was preying upon his 
system. " Chronic diarrhrea," says his 
biographer, " was the form which his 
complaint assumed. The slightest im- 
prudence in eating or drinking brought 
on an attack, during which he suffered 
intensely. While the paroxysm lasted 
he could obtain relief only by sitting 
on a chair with his chest against th 
back of it and his arms dangling for 
ward. In this position he was some 
times compelled to remain for hours. 
It often happened that he was seized 
mth the familiar pain while on the 
march through the woods at the head 
of the troops. In the absence of other 
means of relief he would have a sap- 
ling half severed and bent over, upon 
which he would hang with his arms 
downward, till the agony subsided."' 
In July, General Jackson was again 
at the South on the Alabama, jiresid- 
ing at the treaty conference with the 
Indians. The terms he proposed were 
thought hard, but he was inexorable 
in requiring them. The treaty of Fort 
Jackson, signed on the tenth of Au- 
gust, stripped the Creeks of more than 

' Parton's J»okson, I. 647-8. 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



109 



half of their possessions, confining 
them to a region least inconvenient to 
the peaceful enjoyment of the neigh- 
boring States. " As a national mark 
of gratitude," the friendly Creeks be- 
stowed ujion General Jackson and his 
associate in the treaty, Colonel Haw- 
kins, three miles square of land to 
each, with a request that the United 
States Government Avoidd ratify the 
gift : but this, though recommended to 
Congress by President Madison, was 
never carried into eflect. 

While the treaty \#is still under ne- 
gotiation, Jackson was intent on the 
pext movement of the war, which he 
foresaw would cany him to the shores 
of the Gulf He knew the sympathy 
of the Spaniards in Florida with the 
English, and was prepared for the de- 
signs of the latter against the southern 
country. Having obtained informa- 
tion that British muskets were distri- 
buted among the Indians, and that 
English troops had been landed in Flo- 
rida, he applied to the Secretary of 
War, General Ai-mstrong, for jiermis- 
sion to call out the militia and reduce 
Pensacola at once. The matter was 
left to the discretion of the commander, 
but the letter conferring the authority 
did not reach him for sLx months. In 
the mean time he felt compelled to take 
the management of the war into his 
own hands. Fully aware of the im- 
pending struggle, he was in correspond- 
ence with Governor Claiborne of Lou- 
isiana, putting him on his guard, and 
with Mam'equez, the Spanish governor 
of Pensacola, calling him to a strict 
account for his tamj^ering with the 
enemy, To be neai'er the scene of op- 



erations, he removed, immediately after 
the conclusion of the treaty, to Mobile, 
where he could gain the earliest intelli- 
gence of the movements of the British. 
Learning there, in September, of a 
threatened visit of the fleet under the 
orders of Colonel Nichols to Mobile, 
he called loudly upon the governors of 
the adjoining States for aid, and gave 
the word to his adjutant. Colonel But- 
ler, in Tennessee, to enlist and bring 
on his forces. They responded eagerly 
to the call, for the name of Jackson 
was now identified with glory and vic- 
toiy, which they were ambitious to 
share. His old friend, General Coflfee, 
was their leader. Before they arrived, 
the fort at the moiith of the bay was 
put in a state of defence under the 
command of Major LaAvrence, of the 
United States infantiy. In the after- 
noon of the fifteenth of September it 
was his fortune to maintain the post 
against a bombardment by the British 
fleet of Captain Percy which recalls 
both the attack and success of the de- 
fenders at Fort Sullivan, in the war of 
the Bevolutiou. What Moultrie and 
his brave men did on that day in re- 
pelling the assault of Sir Peter Parker 
and his ships was now done by Law- 
rence at Fort Bo^vj'er. " Don't give up 
the fort " was his motto, as " Don't 
give up the ship " had been uttered by 
his namesake on " the dying deck " of 
the Chesapeake, the ycai- before. The 
fort was not given up. Percy's flag- 
ship, the Hermes, was destroyed, and 
the remainder of his command returned, 
seriously injured, to Pensacola. 

General Jackson rejoiced in this vic- 
tory at Mobile, and waited only the 



110 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



arrival of his forces to carry the war 
home to the British in Fhirida. At 
the eud of Octoljer, General Coffee ar- 
rived with twont}--oiglit luindred men 
ou the Mobile River, wliere Jackson 
joined him, and mustering his forces to 
the number of three thousand, marched 
on the third of November against 
Pensacola. Owing to the difficulty of 
obtaining forage on the way, the caval- 
ry was dismounted. The troops had 
rations for eight days. On his arri- 
val before the town, being desirous 
as far as possible of presenting his 
movements in a peaceful light, Gene- 
ral Jackson sent a messencjer forAvard 
to demand possession of the forts to be 
held by the United States " until Spain, 
by furnishing a sufficient force, might 
be able to protect the province and 
preserve unimpaired her neutral char- 
acter." On approaching the fort the 
bearer of the flai' was fired on and 
compelled to retire. Aware of the de- 
licacy of his self-imposed undertaking, 
before proceeding to extremities he 
sent a second message to the governor, 
by a Spanish corporal who had been 
captured on his route. This time, 
word was brought back that the gov- 
ernor was ready to listen to his propo- 
sals. He accordingly sent Major Piere 
a second time with his demands. A 
council was held, and they Avere re- 
fused. Nothinsr was then left but to 
proceed. The town was gained by a 
bimj^le stratagem. Ai-rauging a por- 
tion of his troops as if to advance 
directly on his road, he di'ew the British 
slnpi)ing to a position on that side, 
when, by a rapid march, he suddenly 
presented his main force on the other. 



lie consequently entered the town bo- 
fore the movement could be met. A 
street fight ensued, and a barrier was 
taken, when the governor appeared 
with a fla;:' of truce. General Jackson 
met him and demanded the surrender 
of the militaiy defences, which was 
conceded. Some delay, however, oc- 
curred, which ended in the delivery of 
the fortifications, of the town, and the 
bloAving up of the fort at the mouth 
of the harbor. Having accomplished 
this feat, the British fleet sailed away 
before morning. Whither were they 
bound ? To Fort Bo\vyer and Mobile 
in all probability, and thither Jack- 
son, leaving the Spanish governor on 
friendly terms behind him, hastened 
his steps. Tarrying a few days for 
the British, who did not come, he took 
his departure for New Orleans, with 
his staff, and in a journey of nine days 
readied the city on the first of Decem- 
ber. 

K ever the force of a single Avill, 
the safety which may be provide"! for 
an imperilled j)eople by the confidence 
of one strong right arm, were fully il- 
lustrated, it would seem to be in the 
military drama which was enacted in 
this and the following month on tlio 
banks of the Mississippi. Andrew 
Jackson was the chief actor. Louisia- 
na had brave men in her midst, numer- 
ous in proportion to her mixed popula- 
tion and still unsettled condition, but 
whom had she, at once with experience 
and authority, to summon on the in- 
stant out of the discordant materials a 
band strong enough for her preserva- 
j tion ? At the time of General Jack- 
I son's arrival a large fleet of the enemy 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



Ill 



was hovering on tlie coast amply pro- 
vided witli every resource of naval and 
military art, bearing a host of the ve- 
teran troops of England, experienced 
in the bloody contests under Welling- 
ton — an expedition compared with 
which the best means of defence at 
hand for the inhabitants of New Or- 
leans resembled the resistance of the 
reeds on the river bank to Behemoth. 
It was the genius of Andrew Jackson 
which made those reeds a rampart of 
iron. He infused his indomitable cour- 
age and resolution in the whole mass of 
citizens. A few troops of hunters, a 
handful of militia, a band of smugglers, 
a company of negroes, a group of j^eace- 
ful citizens stiffened imder his inspira- 
tion into an army. Without Jackson, 
irresolution, divided counsels, and sur- 
render, might, with little reproach to 
the inhabitants, under the circmnstan- 
ces, have been the history of one fatal 
fortnight. With Jackson all was union, 
confidence and victory. 

The instant of his arrival he set 
about the work of organization, review- 
ing the militaiy comj^anies of the city, 
selecting his staff, personally examining 
tlie approaches from the sea and arrang- 
ing- means of defence. He was deter- 
mined that the first step of the enemy 
on landing should be resisted. This 
was the inspiration of the militaiy 
movements which followed, and the 
secret of his success. He did not get 
behind intrenchments and wait for the 
foe to come up, but determined to go 
forth and meet him on the way. He 
was not there so much to defend New 
Orleans as to attack an army of inso- 
lent intruders and diive them into the 



sea. They might be thousands, and 
his force might be only hundreds, but 
he knew of but one resolve, to fight to 
the uttermost, and he pursued the reso- 
lution as if he were revenging a per- 
sonal insult. 

Events came rapidly on as was anti- 
cipated, an attack was made from 
the fleet upon the gunboats on Lake 
Borgne. They were gallantry defend- 
ed, but compelled to surrender. This 
action took place on the fourteenth of 
December. Now was the time, if ever, 
to met the invading host. The spirit 
of Jackson rose, if possible, yet higher 
with the occasion. Well knowing that 
not a man in the city could be spared, 
and the inefficiency, in such emergencies, 
of the civil authority, he resolve to 
take the whole power in his own hands. 
On the sixteenth, he proclaimed mar 
tial law. Its effect was to concentrate 
every energy of the people with a sin- 
gle aim to theu" deliverance. Two days 
after, a review was held of the State 
militia, the volunteer companies, and 
the battalion of free men of color, when 
a stirring address was read, penned by 
the general's secretary, Edward Liv- 
insrston — a little smoother than 014 
Hickory's bulletins in the Alabama 
wilderness, but not at all uncertain. 
The Tennessee, Mississippi and Ken- 
tucky recruits had not yet arrived; 
but they were on their way, straining 
every nerve in forced marches to meet 
the coming danger. Had the British 
moved with the same energy, the city 
mi<rht have fiillen to them. It was not 
till the twenty-first, a week after their 
victory on the lake, that they began 
theii* advance, and pushed a portion of 



112 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



their force through the swamps, reach- 
ing a phintation on the river l>ank, sLx 
miles below the city, on the forenoon 
of the twenty-third. It was j)ast mid- 
day when word Avas hroiight to Jack- 
son of their arrival, and ^vithiu three 
hours a force of some two thousand 
men was on the way to meet them. 
No attack was expected by the enemy 
that night ; their comrades were below 
in numbers, and they anticipated an 
easy advance to the city the next morn- 
ing. They little knew the commander 
^\^th whom they had to deal. That 
very night they must be assailed in 
theii' position. Intrusting an impor- 
tant portion of his command to General 
Coffee, who was on hand with his brave 
Tennesseans, charged with surrounding 
the enemy on the land side, Jackson 
himself took position in front on 
the road, while the Carolina, a war 
schooner, dropjied do^vn on the river 
opposite the Biitish station. Her can- 
nonade, at half-past seven, throwing a 
deadly sho^ver of grape-shot into the 
encampment, was the signal for the 
commencement of this night struggle. 
It was a fearful contest in the darkness, 
frequently of hand to hand individual 
prowess, particularly where Coffee's 
riflemen were employed. The forces 
actually engaged are estimated on the 
part of the British, including a reinforce- 
ment which they received, at more than 
twenty-three hundred ; about fifteen 
hundred Americans took j)art in the 
fight. The result, after an engagement 
of nearly two hours, was a loss to the 
latter of twenty-foui' killed, and one 
hundreil and eighty-nine wounded and 
missin':'. The British loss was much 



larger, sustaining as they did the addi- 
tional fire of the schooner. 

Before daylight, Jackson took up his 
position at a canal two miles distant 
from the camj) of the enemy, and con- 
sequently within four of the city. The 
canal was deepened into a trench, and 
the earth throAvn back formed an em- 
bankment, Avhich was assisted l)y the 
fiimous cotton bales, a device that 
proved of much less value than has 
been generally supposed. A fortnight 
was yet to elapse before the final and 
conclusive enjrajrement. Its main inci- 
dents were the arrival of General Sir 
Edward Pakenham, the commander-in- 
chief, with General GiV)bs, in the 
British camp, on the twenty-fifth, bring- 
ing reinforcements from Europe; the 
occupation by the Americans of a posi- 
tion on the opposite side of the river 
protecting their camp ; the destruction 
of the Carolina by red hot shot on the 
twenty-seventh; an advance of the 
Britisli, with fearful preparation of 
artillery, to stoi-m the works the fol- 
lowing day, which was defeated by the 
Louisiana sloop advantageously posted 
in the river, and the fire from the 
American batteries, which were every 
day gaining strength of men and muni- 
tions ; the renewal of the attack Vfiih 
like ill success on the first of January ; 
the simultaneous accession to the Ame- 
rican force of over two thousand Ken- 
tucky riflemen, mostly without rifles ; 
a corresponding addition to tho enemy 
on the sixth, and a general accumula- 
tion of resources on both sides, in pre- 
paration for the final encounter. On 
the eighth of January, a last attempt 
was made on the American front, which 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



113 



extended about a mile in a straifflit line 
from the river alonsr the canal into the 
wood. The plan of attack, which was 
well conceived, was to take possession 
of the American work upon the oppo- 
site bank of the river, turn its guns 
upon Camp Jackson, and under cover 
of this diversion scale the embankment, 
and gain possession of the batteiy. 
The first was defeated by the want of 
means, and loss of time in getting the 
necessary troops across the river ; the 
main attack, owing to some neglect, 
was inadequately supplied with scaling 
ladders, and the troops were marched 
up to slaughter from the murderous fu-e 
of the artillerymen and riflemen from 
behind the embankment. Throughout 
the whole series of engagements, the 
American batteries, mounting twelve 
guns of various calibre, were most skil- 
fully served. The loss on that day of 
death was to the defenders but eight 
killed and thirteen wounded ; that of 
the assailants in killed, wounded and 
missing exceeded, in their oflicial re- 
turns, two thousand.* A monument in 
"Westminster Abbey attests the regret 
of the British public for the death of 
the commander-in-chief, a hero of the 
Peninsular war, the lamented Paken- 
ham. 

Ten days after, having endured vari- 
ous hardships in the meantime, the 
British anny, under the du-ection of 
General I^ambert, took its departure. 
On the twenty-first, Jackson broke up 
his camp with an addi-ess to his troops, 
and returned to New Orleans in tri- 
umj^h. On the twenty-third, at his 

' Danson'B Battles of the United States, II. 419. 

15 



request, a Te Deum was celebrated at 
the cathedral, when he was received at 
the door, in a pleasant ceremonial, by a 
group of young ladies, representing 
the States of the Union. 

The conduct of Jackson throughout 
the month of peril, whilst the enemy 
was on the land, was such as to secure 
him the highest fame of a commander. 
He had not been called upon to make 
any extensive manoeuvres in the field, 
but he had taken his dispositions on 
new ground with a rapid and profound 
calculation of the resources at hand. 
His emplojmient of Lafitte and his men 
of Barrataria, the smugglers whom he 
had denounced from MobUe as " hellish 
banditti," is proof of the sagacity vdth 
which he accommodated himself to cir- 
cumstances, and his superiority to pre- 
judice. They had a character to gain, 
and turned their wild experience of 
gunnery to most profitable account at 
his battery. His personal exertions 
and influence may be said to have won 
the field ; and it should be remembered 
in what broken health he passed his 
sleepless nights, and days of constant 
anxiety. 

The departm-e of the British did not 
relax the vigilance of the energetic 
Jackson. Like the English Strafford, 
his motto was " thorough," as the good 
people of New Orleans learnt before 
this affair was at an end. He did not 
abate, in the least, his strict military 
iiile, till the last possible occasion for 
its exercise had gone by. It was con- 
tinued when the enemy had left, and 
through days and weeks when as- 
surance of the peace news was estab- 
lished to every mind but his own. He 



lU 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



chose to have certainty, and the "rigor 
of the game." In the midst of tlie 
ovations and thanksgivings, in the first 
moments of exidtation, he signed the 
death warrant of six mutineers, de- 
serters, who as long before as Septem- 
ber, had construed a service of the ohl 
legal term of three months as a release 
from their six months' engagement; 
and the severe order was executed at 
Mobile. In a like spii'it of militaiy 
exactitude. New Orleans being still 
held under martial law, to the chafing 
of the citizens, he silenced a newspaper 
editor who had ])ublished a premature, 
incorrect bulletin of peace; banished 
the French citizens who were disposed 
to take refuge from his jurisdiction in 
theii' nationality; aiTested an impor- 
tant personage, M. LouaiDier, a mem- 
ber of the I^egislature, who argued the 
question in print; and when Judge 
Ilall, of the United States Court, 
granted a ^vTit of hal)eas corpus, to 
bring the aftair to a judicial investiga- 
tion, he was promptly seized and im- 
prisoned along with the petitioner. 
The last aftair occuiTed on the fifth of 
March. A week later, the official news 
of the peace treaty was received fi-om 
Washington, and the iron grasp of the 
general at length relaxed its hold of 
the city. The civil authority succeeded 
to the militaiy, when wounded justice 
asserted its power, in turn, by summon- 
ing the victorious general to her bar, 
to answer for his recent contempt of 
court. He was unwilling to be entan- 
gled in legal pleadings, and cheerfully 
paid the imposed fine of one thousand 
dollars. lie was as ready in sultmit- 
ting to the civil authority now that the 



war was over, as he had been decided 
in exacting its obedience when the 
safety of the State seemed to him the 
chief consideration. Thirty years after, 
the amount of the fine, princij)al and 
interest was repaid him l)y Congi-ess. 

The reception of the victorious de- 
fender of New Orleans, on his retiu-n to 
Nashville, and subsequent visit, in au- 
tumn, to the scat of government, was 
a continual ovation. On his route, at 
Lynchburgh, in Viiginia, he was met 
by the venerable Thomas Jefterson, 
who toasted him at a banquet of citi- 
zens. The administration, organizing 
anew the military defence of the coun- 
try, created him major general of the 
southern division of the anny, the 
whole force being arranged in two de- 
partments, of which the northern waa 
assigned to General Brown. 

It was not long })efore the name of 
Jackson was again to fill the public 
ear, and impart its terrors alike to the 
enemy and to his own government. 
The speck of war arose in Florida, 
which, what with runaway negroes, 
hostile Indians, filibustering adventu- 
rers, and the imbecility of the Spanish 
i-ule, became a constant source of irrita- 
tion to the adjoining American States. 
There were various warlike ])relimina- 
ries, and at last, towards the end of 
1817, a murderous attack by the Semi- 
noles upon a United States boat's crew 
ascending the Appalachicola. General 
Jackson was called into the field, 
charged with the suppression of the 
war. Eager for the service, he sprang 
to the work, and conducted it in his 
own fashion, ''taking the responsibil- 
ity" tliroughout, summoning volunteers 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



115 



to accompany him fi-om Tennessee with- 
oiit the formality of the civil authority, 
advancing rapidly into Florida after 
his arrival at the frontier, capturing the 
Spanish fort of St. Marks, and push- 
ing thence to the Suwanee. General 
M'Intosh, the half-breed who accompa- 
nied his march, performed feats of 
valor in the destruction of the Semi- 
noles. At the former of these places, 
a trader from New Providence, a Scotch- 
man named Arbuthnot, a superior mem- 
ber of his class, and a pacific man, fell 
into his hands ; and in the latter, a va- 
grant English military adventurer, one 
Ambrister. Both of these men were 
held under aiTest, charged with com- 
plicity with the Indian aggressions, 
and though entu-ely irresponsible to 
the American commander of this mili- 
tary raid, were summarily tried under 
his order by a coiu-t-martial on Spanish 
territory, at St. Marks, found guilty, 
and executed by his order on the spot. 
He even refused to receive the recon- 
sideration of the court of its sentence 
of Ambrister, substituting sti-ij^es and 
imj^risonment for death. Amljrister 
was shot, and Arbuthnot huntr fi-om 
the yard-arm of his own vessel in the 
harbor. During the remainder of Jack- 
son's life, these names rana; throueh 
the country with a fearful emphasis in 
the strife of parties. Of the many 
difficulties in the way of his eulogists, 
this is, perhaps, the most considerable. 
His o-^vn explanation, that he was per- 
forming a simple act of justice, would 
seem, mth his previous execution of 
the six mutineers, to rest upon a par- 
tial study of the testimony ; but this 
responsibility should of course be di- 



vided with the members of his court- 
martial. The chief remaining events 
of the campaign were an angry corres- 
pondence ■\vith the governor of Georgia, 
in respect to an encroachment on his 
authority in oi-dering an attack on an 
Indian village, and the capture of Pen- 
sacola, in which he left a garrison. 

Reckoning day with the government 
was next in order. The debate in Con- 
gress ou the Florida transactions was 
long and animated, Henry Clay bear- 
ing a conspicuous part in the opposi- 
tion. The resolutions of censure were 
lost by a large majority in the House. 
The failure to convict was a virtual vote 
of thanks. Fortified by the result, the 
general, who had been in Washington 
during the debate, made a triumphal 
visit to Philadelphia and New York. 
At the latter place he was presented 
with the freedom of the city in a gold 
box, which, a topic for one of the poets 
of the "croakers" at the time, has bo- 
come a matter of interest since, in the 
discussion growing out of a provision 
of the general's will. He left the gift 
to the bravest of the New York officers 
in the next war. It was finally be- 
stowed, in 1850, upon General Ward 
B. Burnett, the colonel of a New York 
regiment distinguished in the Mexican 
war. The original presentation took 
place at the City Hall, in February, 
1819. 

The protracted negotiations Math 
Spain for the purchase of Florida beino- 
now brought to an end by the acquisition 
of the country. General Jackson was 
appointed by President Monroe the 
first governor of the Territoiy. He 
was present at the formal cession at 



116 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



Pensacola, on the nth of July, 1821, 
aud entered upon his new duties with 
his usual vigor — a vigor in one instance, 
at least, humorously tlisj)roj)ortioned to 
the seene, in a notable disjiute with the 
Spanish governor, in the course of 
■which there was a fresh imbroglio with 
a United States judge, and the foreign 
functionaiy was ludicrously locked up 
in the calaboose — all al>out the deliv- 
ery of certain unimportant papers. 
On a question of authority, it was 
Jackson's habit to go straight fonvard 
without looking to see what important 
modifying circumstances there might 
be to the rifjht or left. It was a mill- 
tary trait which served him very well 
on important occasions in war, and sub- 
sequently in one great struggle, that 
of the Bank, in jieace; but in smaller 
mixed matters, it might easily lead him 
astray. For this Don Callava's com- 
edy, we must refer the reader to INIr. 
Pai-ton's full and entertaining narra- 
tive — not the most imposing, ])ut cer- 
tainly not the least instructive portion 
of his book. The Florida governor- 
ship was not suited to the demands of 
Jackson's nature ; his powers were too 
limited and restricted ; the irritation of 
the Spanish quarrel was not calculated 
to lighten his disease, and ]\Irs. Jackson 
was at his side to plead the superior 
claims of home. Thither, after a few 
months' absence, he returned, doubtless 
greatly to the relief of the Secretary of 
State, Mr. Adams, who said at the time 
to a friend, "he dreaded the arrival of 
a mail from Florida, not knowing what 
General Jackson might do next." * The 

■ Partoo's Jackson, Tt. 689. 



remainder of General Jackson's life may 
be regarded as chiefly ])olitical ; it is 
rather as a man of action in politics, 
than as a theoretical statesman, in any 
sense, that he is to be considered. IIo 
had certain views in public atVairs apart 
fi-om the army, which were more mat- 
ters of instinct than of reflection or 
argument. The two great trophies of 
his administrations, his course towards 
South Carolina in the preservation of 
the Union, and his victory over the 
interests of the United States Bank, 
were of this character. They were 
both questions likely to present them- 

i selves strongly to his mind. He had 
an old republican antagonism to paper 
money, and the corrui)tions of a large 
moneyed corjioration allied to the 
government, and having once formed 

' this idea, his military energy came in 
to carry it out through every availabl 
means at his disposal. 

His availability for the Presidency 
was based upon his popularity ^vith 
the people wherever they had faii'ly 
come in contact with him. The people, 
above all other qualities, esteem those 
of a strong, earnest, truthful, straight- 
forwai'd character. They admire force 
and unity of purpose, and require hon- 
esty. Jackson had these requisites in 
perfection. There was no mistaking 
his single aim. It had been displayed 
on a field where nothing is hidden from 
the popular eye, where it is even dis- 
posed to exaggeration of what it fairly 
takes in. In producing a candidate for 
popidar favor in an ordinary election, a 
great deal is to be done, in common 
cases, in bringing the public to an un- 
derstanding of his claims. His reputa- 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



117 



tion has, in a measure, to be manufac- 
tm-ed. Voters have to be schooled to 
his appreciation. But Jackson's fame 
was akeady made — made by iiiniself. 
Various things of gi-eat importance to 
the nation were, at diiferent times, to 
be done, and Jackson liad accomplished 
them. He had freed the land from the 
savage, and swept the invader from the 
soil. He had been charged with some 
eiTors, but, granting the worst, they 
had no taint of selfishness or fraud. 
If he was over rigorous in punishing 
deserters, and punctilious in his mili- 
tary authority, it was a public necessity 
which nerved his resolution. A few 
might be sufferers by his ill-directed 
zeal, but tlie masses saw only the splen- 
dor of a righteous indignation. It was 
for them the work was done, and the 
penalty incurred. His worst private 
vice was that of a duellist, which is 
always more apt to be associated with 
pnncii)les of honor, than its fi-equent 
incentive, unworthy self-assertion. 

It is not at all surprising that such a 
man should be summoned to the Pre- 
sidency. He was nominated by the 
legislature of his own State in 1823, 
which sent him again to the Senate, 
and he was highest on the list of the 
candidates voted for the followinir 
year — he had ninety-nine out of two 
hundred and sixty-one votes — when 
the election was carried into the House 
of Kepresentatives, and Adams was 
chosen by the influence of Henry Clay. 
At the next election, he was borne tri- 
umphantly into the office, receiving 
more than double the number of votes 
of his antagonist, Mr. Adams. The 
vote was one hundred and seventy- 



eight to eighty-three. At the election 
of 1835, the third time Jackson's popu- 
larity was tested in this way, the vote 
stood for Clay forty-nine, for Jackson 
two hundred and thirty-nine. 

The recoi'd of these eight years of 
his Presidential service, from 1829 to 
1837, is the modem history of the 
democratic party, of the exertions of 
its most distinguished representatives, 
of the establishment of its most che- 
rished principles — its anti-biink creed 
in the overthrow of the national bank, 
and origination of the subtreasury 
system, which went into operation with 
his successor — the reduction of the 
tariff — the opposition to internal im- 
provements — the payment of the na- 
tional debt. In addition to the settle- 
ment of these long agitated questions, 
his administration was signalized by 
the removal of the Cherokees from 
Georgia, and the Creeks from Florida 
while its foreign policy was candid and 
vigorous, bringing to a satisfactory 
adjustment the outstanding claims on 
France and other nations, and main- 
taining friendly relations with England. 
In all these measures, his energetic hand 
was felt, but particularly was his pecu- 
liar character manifested in his veto of 
1832, and general conduct of the bank 
question, the collection of the French 
indemnity, and his enforcement of the 
national authority in South Carolina. 
The censure of the Senate on the 
28th March 1834, for his removal of the 
deposits of the public money from the 
bank as " an assumption of authority 
and power not coufeiTed by the Consti- 
tution and laws, but in derogation of 
both " — a censure supported by the ex- 



118 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



traordinary coalition of Callioun, Clay 
ami Webster, measures the exteut of 
tlie oj)position his course eucouutered 
in Congress ; while the Expunging Re- 
solution of 1837, blotting out that con- 
demnation, indicates the reception and 
progress of his oi)inions with the seve- 
ral States in the brief interim. The 
])ersonal attack made upon him in 
1835, by a poor lunatic at the door of 
the Capitol, " a diseased mind acted 
upon by a general outcry against a 
public man," * may show the sentiment 
with which a large j>ortiou of the ])ress 
and a considerable i)0])ular party habit- 
ually treated him. 

The love of Andrew Jackson for 
the Union deserves at this time more 
than a passing mention. It was em- 
phatically the creed of his head and 
heart. He had no toleration for those 
who sought to weaken this great in- 
stinct of nationality. No sophism 
could divert his understanding from 
the plainest obligations of duty to his 
whole countiy. He saw as clearly as 
the subtlest logician in the Senate 
the inevitable tendencies of any argu- 
ment which would impair the alle- 
giance of the people of iiie States 
to the central authority. He could 
not make such a S2)eech as Web- 
ster delivered on the subject, but he 
knew as well as Webster the abyss 
into which nullification would plunge 



its advocates. Hi.* 



vigorous 



policy 



saved his o\vn generation the trials to 
which ours has been subjected. Had 
his spirit still ruled at the proper mo- 
ment in the national administration, 

' Benlon'8 Thirty Tears' View, I. 623. 



we too might have been spared the im- 
told evils of a gigantic rebellion. It is 
remarkable that it was predicted by 
him — not in its extent, for his patriot- 
ism and the ardor of his temperament 
would not have allowed him to imajriue 
a defection so wide-spread, or so la- 
mentable a lack of energy in giving 
encoiu-agement to its growth — Init in 
its motive and pretences. When nulli- 
fication was laid at rest, his keen in- 
sight saw that the rebellious spirit 
which gave the doctrine birth was not 
extinguished. He pronounced the tar- 
iff only the ])retext of factious and 
malignant disturbers of the public 
peace, " who would involve their coun- 
try in a civil war and all the evils in 
its train, that they might reign and 
ride on its whirlwinds, and direct the 
storm." Disunion and a southern con- 
federacy, and not the tariff, he said, 
wei"e the real objects of the conspira- 
tors, adding, with singular sagacity, 
" the next pretext mil be the negro or 
the slavery question." ^ 

Eight years of honorable repose re- 
mained to the victor in so many battles, 
military and political, after his retire- 
ment from the Presidency. They were 
passed in his seat near Nashville, the 
home of his hapj)y married life, but no 
longer cheered by the -warm-hearted, 
sincere, devout sharer of his many 
trials. That excellent wife had been 
taken from him on the eve of his first 
occupation of the Presidential chair, 
and her memory only was left, vriih its 
inviting lessons of piety, to temper the 
passions of the tme-hearted old man as 

' Letter to tho RoT. Andrew J. Crawford. Washing- 
ton, tiay 1, 1833. 



ANDREW JACKSON. 



119 



he resigned liimself to religion and the 
cares of another and better world. He 
had early adopted, as his own son, a 
nephew of his wife, and the child grew 
up always fondly cherished by him, 
bore his name and inherited his estate. 
" The Hermitage," the seat of a liberal 
hospitality, never lacked intimates dear 
to him. He had the good heart of Dr. 
Johnson in taking to his home and at- 
taching to himself fi-iends who grew 
strong again in his manly confidence. 
Thus, in the enjoyment of a tranquil 
old age, looking back upon a career 
which belonged to history, he met the 
increasing infirmities of ill health with 
pious equanimity, a member of the 
Presbyterian church, where his wife 
had so fondly worshipped — life slowly 
ebbing from him in the progress of his 
dropsical complaint — till one summer 
day, the eighth of June, 1845, the chUd 
of the Revolution, an old man of sev- 
enty-eight, closed his eyes in lasting 
repose at his beloved Hermitage. 

The genius and peculiarities of An- 
drew Jackson afford a tempting subject 
for the pen of the essayist. His reso- 
lute will, strong, fierce and irresistible, 
resting upon a broad honesty of natm-e, 



was paramount. It was directed more 
by feeling and impulse than by educa- 
tion and reflection ; consequently there 
was a spice of egotism even in its pur- 
est resolves, and it sometimes took 
harsh ways to good ends. Somehow 
or other it generally had the sanction 
of success. The integrity of his pub- 
lic life, the great national measures 
with which his name is identified, will 
throw into obscurity, on the page of 
history, his personal weaknesses — the 
violence of his temper, his oaths, hia 
quan-els and occasional seeming want 
of magnanimity. Strange that so fin- 
ished and courteous a gentleman should 
at times have been so rude ! 

An apology has been found in the 
straggles of his early life, the rough 
frontier society into which he was in- 
troduced, and the lifelong irritations of 
disease. That in despite of these tan- 
gible defects, he should, through so 
great a variety of circumstances, civU 
and militaiy, have controlled so many 
strong and subtle elements, and have 
found so many learned and able men 
to do his work and assist him in his 
upward path, is the highest proof of 
his genius. 



MARTIN VAN BUREN. 



^ 



Makttn Van Buren, tlie eiglitli Pre- 
sident of the United States, was born 
at Kinderbook, Columbia County, New 
York, December 5th, 1782. His name 
imports his Dutch descent, his family 
being among the early settlers who 
came from Holland to the New Nether- 
lands. Abraham Van Buren, the father 
of ^Martin, is spoken of as a farmer in 
moderate circumstances, " an upright, 
amiable, and intelligent man, of strong 
common sense, and distinguished for his 
pacific disposition." He had little op- 
portunity to bestow upon his son a 
costly classical education ; but the boy 
had the benefit of such instruction as 
the village school and academy afforded, 
and its course included " some know- 
ledge of Latin." His quickness and in- 
telligence marked him out for the pro- 
fession of the law, the study of which 
he commenced at the early age of four- 
teen, in the office of ]\Ii-. Francis Sylves- 
ter, a highly respectable practitioner at 
Kinderhook. This aj)iiarently prema- 
ture entrance in the training of the pro- 
fession is accounted for by a former 
regulation of the bar, which required a 
seven years' course of instruction, except 
in the case of those who had received a 
collegiate degree, when an allowance 
was made for the usual four years of 
the undergraduate course. 



The young Van Buren was early set 
to tiy cases in the Justices' Courts, 
and as it is always in America but n 
single step from the laA\yer's office 
to the political arena, he found his 
way when he was but eighteen to a 
nominating convention of the Republi- 
can party, of a candidate for the State 
legislature. These and similar employ- 
ments marked the young man while he 
was yet a student, for future activity 
and employment in public affairs. This 
: tendency was increased by his engage- 
ment in the last year of his jireparatory 
course in the office of Mr. William P. 
Van Ness, a distinguished leader of the 
Republican party in the city of New 
York, and friend of Aaron Burr. The 
latter is said to have cultivated the soci- 
ety of the young student at law from 
Columbia County, and impressed upon 
him much of his political sagacity in 
the organization and government of 
party. In 1803, in his twenty-first year, 
Mr. Van Buren was admitted to the bar 
of the Supreme Court of the State, and 
returned to Kinderhook to begin prac- 
tice at the law. His half-brother, his 
mother's son by a first man-iage, Mr. 
James I. Van Alen, afterward a mem- 
ber of Congress, was there estal)l>ehod 
as a lawyer, and the two formed at 

once a business connection. This part- 

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MARTIN "Van BUREN. 



121 



ner, who was somewhat of a politician, 
was attached to the Federal party, 
^vhich was the ruling influence in the 
county, and many considerations were 
lu-ged upon young Van Buren to adopt 
the prevalent creed. He had, however, 
chosen his path. "Firmly fixed," says 
his biographer. Mi*. Holland, " by reflec- 
tion and observation in the political 
faith of his father, who Avas a Whig in the 
Revolution, an anti-Federalist in 1788, 
and an early supporter of Jefterson, he 
shrunk not from the severe tests which 
were applied to the strength and integ- 
rity of his convictions. Without pa- 
tronage, comparatively poor, a plebeian 
by birth, and not furnished with the 
advantages of a superior education, he 
refused to worship either at the shrine 
of wealth or power, but followed the 
dictates of his native judgment and be- 
nevolent feelings, and hesitated not, in 
behalf of the cause which he thus 
adopted, to encounter the utmost vio- 
lence of his political enemies. That 
violence soon burst upon his head with 
concentrated fury. His character was 
traduced, his person ridiculed, his prin- 
ciples branded as infamous, his integ- 
rity questioned, and his abilities sneered 
at." Tliis is one side of the pictui'e — 
the opposition of the Federalists ; it has 
another, the partisan friendship of the 
Republicans. The latter gave the young 
lawyer and politician their support ; 
he throve in his profession ; was mar- 
ried happily, in 1806, to Miss Hannah 
Hoes, a distant relative on the mother's 
side; and in 1808 had his first party 
reward from the Republican state ad- 
ministration of Governor Tompkins, 
which he had assisted into office. He 
16 



received the appointment of surrogate 
of Columbia County, which induced 
him to remove to the county seat at 
Hudson, where he devoted himself assi 
duously to the bar. 

In politics, as we have seen, Mr. Van 
Bui'en was an active participant from 
the start as an ardent supporter of the 
Jefifersonian politics of the day. In the 
State divisions he attached himself to 
the fortunes of Governor Tompkins, 
and was prominent in sustaining his 
anti-bank policy. It was on the latter 
issue, in opposition to Edward P. Liv- 
ingston, a bank-democrat supported by 
the Federalists, that Mr. Van Buren was 
chosen a State senator from the coun- 
ties comprising the Middle District. It 
was a closely contested election, the 
successful candidate haAnng a majority 
of only about two hundred in an aggre- 
gate vote of twenty thousand. 

It was the season of a new Presi- 
dential election, the fii'st tei'm of Mr. 
Madison being about to expire. As it 
was the custom at that time to nomi- 
nate the State electors by a caucus of 
the political parties in the legislature, 
Mr. Van Buren was, of course, called 
upon to participate in their decision. 
The Republican members had already, 
in their spring session, nominated De 
AVitt Clinton for that liigh oflice, a 
nomination to which Mr. Van Buren 
now gave his support. This brought 
him in a quasi union with the Federal- 
ists, who gave their support to Mr. Clin- 
ton, and has led his biographers to 
take particular pains to exhibit his ad- 
herence to the war policy of the admin- 
istration at Washington, toward which, 
at the outset at least, Mr. Clinton had 



122 



mArtin van BUREN. 



been opposed. But whatever doiihts 
may have been thrown over his views 
by this aceideutal party relation, seem- 
ing to compromise his thorough-going 
republicanism, his adherence to war 
measures was made explicit enough in 
the Adcb'ess which he ])repared as chair- 
man of the committee nominating Go- 
vernor Tompkins for reelection in 1813, 
and by his subsequent advocacy in the 
legislature of the most stringent war 
measures, })articularly in an act to en- 
courage privateering, and another which 
was kuoANTi as the " classification law," 
of the nature of a conscription, author- 
izing the governor to place at the dis- 
posal of the President twelve thousand 
men of the militia — a measure which, 
though ado])ted, peace intervening, was 
not re(piired to be put in practice. The 
acts just alluded to were violently op- 
posed by the Federalists, and submit- 
ted to a severe scnitiny after their pas- 
sage, in the Council of Revision, a body 
which then sat as an integral part of the 
legislature in confirming its laws. Chan- 
cellor Kent there delivered an opinion 
against them. It was pul^lished, and 
replied to by Samuel Young, then 
Speaker of the Asseml)ly, in several 
newspaper articles signed '■^ Juris Can- 
sulhis" which -were answered by the 
chancellor under the signature "Amicic-s 
Curicer Upon this IVIr. Van Buren met 
the latter, directing his attention espe- 
cially to the assault upon the morality 
of the privateering law, in a series of ar- 
ticles signed ^'■Amicus Juris Consul- 
tusr 

After peace was conclu<led, in the 
words of his eiilogist, Colonel Benton, 
" to complete his course in sujiport of 



the war, and to crown his meritorious 
labors to bring it to a ha])py conclu- 
sion, it became ]\Ir. Van Bun-n's fortune 
to draw up the vote of thanks of the 
greatest State of the Union, to the great- 
est general which the war had produced 
— ' the thanks of the Ne^v York lesjisla- 
ture to Major-General Jackson, his gal- 
lant officers and troops, for their won- 
derful and heroic victory, in defence of 
the grand emporium of the West.' " 

The .ability displayed by Mr. Van 
Buren in the Senate indicated him as 
a worthy incumbent of the office of 
attorney-genei-al of the State, an ap- 
j)oiutment which he received in 1815. 
He was also in this year created a Re- 
gent of the University, and in the fol- 
lowins: was reelected for another terra 
of foui" years to the Senate. He then 
took up his residence at Albany, where 
he continued his practice at the bar, 
which had steadily increased, and 
formed a partnership Avith his pnpil, 
the late Benjamin F. Butler, to whom, 
as the political relations of IVIr. Van 
Buren became more engrossing, the bu- 
siness of the office was gi'adually relin- 
quished. 

It is not necessary here to attempt to 
follow Mr. Van Bui'en through the in- 
tricate windings of New York political 
history. It is a stoiy of cross purposes, 
which can be fully understood only by 
a minute study of the history of the 
times, if, indeed, we are as yet supplied 
with the full materials for its compre- 
hension. It may be sufficient to suy 
that much in those days, by a politician 
bent ujion advancement, had to be ao 
complishod by management and in- 
trigue. The ship was to be assisted iu 



MARTIN VAN BUREN. 



123 



its course by side winds and. under cur- 
rents. Thus we find Mr. Van Buren 
■u-itli his party at one time, by some pro- 
cess of fusion of Republicans and Fed- 
eralists, supporting De Witt Clinton; 
at another, leading in his overthrow. It 
became a question of party existence. 
"What is called the Albany Regency, a 
body of practised politicians who com- 
bined theii- resoui'ces in office and 
through the press in establishing and 
cementing democratic authority, was 
called into being. Clinton had the 
prestige of a great name in the State, 
and the influence of commanding ta- 
lents, sustained by the most indomita- 
ble usefulness and industry ; he was the 
great supporter of the Canal policy, 
which was at length triumphantly car- 
ried through, but which had, mean- 
while, to bear the brunt of a ruthless 
opposition ; in his personal bearing he 
was charged with haughtiness, which 
was, probably, nothing more than the 
dignity and reserve of a superior na- 
ture, exclusively engrossed in honor- 
able ends, requiring the devotion of the 
whole man. At any rate, a party strug- 
gle ensued between the friends of the 
governor and of Mr. Van Buren, which 
was conducted with great acriraonj^ 
One of its results was the removal of 
the latter from his office of attorney- 
general, by that political machine of the 
old constitution, the Council of Ap- 
pointment, in 1819, at a moment when 
he had become obnoxious to the CHn- 
tonians by his efforts to oppose the re- 
election of their chieftain. The decapi- 
tation caused some stii" at the time, 
which is commemorated in one of the 
poetical effusions of the Croakers, with 



a prophetic hint of the victim's higher 
destiny. 

'Tis vain to win a great man's name, 

Without some proof of having been one, 
And killing 's a sure path to fame, 

Vide Jack Ketch and Mr. Clinton I 
Our Council well this path have trod, 

Honor's immortal wreath securing, 
They've dipped their hatchets in the blood, 

The patriot blood of Mat. Van Buren. 

He bears, as every hero ought, 

The mandate of the powers that rule, 
Jfe's higher game in view, 'tis thought. 

All in good time ; (the man 's no fool), 
With him, some dozens prostrate fall, 

No friend to mourn, nor foe to ttout them, 
They die unsung, unwept by all. 

For no one cares a sous about them. 

It was about this time that the demo- 
crats, including Mi*. Van Buren, engaged 
in one of those party compromise ma- 
noeuvres to Avhich we have alluded, in 
the election of Mr. Rufus King, an old 
federalist, to the Senate. In support 
of this measm'e, Mr. Van Bui-en wrote 
and published, in conjunction with the 
late Governor Marcy, a pamphlet enti- 
tled " Considerations in favor of the 
ai:)pointment of Rufus King to the Se- 
nate of the United States." In the 
great question of the day, in which Mr. 
King bore so prominent a part, the 
admission of Missouri into the Union, 
Mr. Van Buren concui-red with the 
Senate in its instructions to the State 
representatives at Washington, to insist 
upon the prohibition of slavery. His 
service in this body ended with the ex- 
piration of his second term, in 1820, 
when he was not a candidate for reelec- 
tion. In February of the following 
year he was chosen by the legislature 
Senator of the United States. In the 
same year lie was also elected a mem- 



124 



MARTIN VAN BUREN. 



ber of the convention to revise the con- 
stitution of the State, from Otsego 
County, his party not Ix'ing strong 
enough to return him from his own dis- 
trict. When this important body met 
he took an active pari; in its delibera- 
tions, advocating generally a medium 
course of reform. On one of the pro- 
minent subjects under discussion, the 
extension of the right of suffrage, he 
was in favor of a rehixation of the old 
system, but stopped short of universal 
suffrage. That was a measui'e of an 
after day. He was opposed to the con- 
tinuance of the Council of Revision, and 
in favor of the substitute for its check 
upon hasty legislation, of the veto 
power of the governor. He favored the 
direct choice of officers of government 
by the peojilo, with some reservations, 
however, which, adopted at the time, 
have been subsequently removed. His 
course was thus politic, and, in a mea- 
sure, conservative. 

The convention concluded its sit- 
tings in time for Mr. Van Biu'en to 
take his seat, at the opening of the win- 
ter session of the Senate at Washinc:- 
ton, by tlie side of his colleague Rufus 
King. His reputation being now well 
established, he was at once charged 
with important duties as a member of 
the committees of finance and the judi- 
ciaiy. One of the topics which early 
engaged his attention was the abolition 
of imprisonment for del)t in the process 
of the United States Courts, unless in 
certain cases of fraud — an amelioration 
of the statutes of the olden time, which 
he had already advocated in the State 
jurisprudence at Albany. He also pro- 
posed amendments to the judiciaiy sys- 



tem, and was a prominent speaker in 
the discussion of a bill estal)lisliin2 a 
uniform system of bankruptcy. 

On the occession of Mr. Adams in 
1825 Mr. Van Buren, who had already 
attached himself to the fortunes of 
Jackson, was enrolled in the number 
of the President's opponents. Among 
other measures of the Administration, 
the proposed Panama mission drew 
forth his determined opposition. 

In 1827 he was reelected to the 
Senate by a decisive vote of the New 
York State Legislature, but lie had 
little more than entered on the new 
term, when he was chosen, on the death 
of De Witt Clinton, who expired sud- 
denly while in office. Governor of New 
York. He consequently resigned his 
seat in the Senate and befjan his new 
course of duties in January, 1829. 

Mr. Van Buren had not been long at 
Albany, in his seat as governor, when, 
on the entrance of Jackson upon the 
Presidency in 1829, he was called to 
the high office, directly, according to 
the old precedents in the line of suc- 
cession, of Secretary of State. He held 
this for two years, when political hos- 
tilities having grown rife in the cabinet, 
a dissolution seemed inevitable, and, 
" convinced that the success of the ad- 
ministration, and his own jji-ospects for 
the future, demanded his retirement 
from a position so unpleasant, he led 
the way by a voluntaiy resignation of 
the office which he held." * 

Mr. Van Buren retii'ed during the 
recess of Congi'ess in Aj)ril, 1831, and 
was immediately appointed by the 

' Jenkins' V&n Buren. GoTernora of New York, p. 444. 



MARTIN VAN BUREN. 



125 



President Minister Plenipotentiary to 
Great Britain. He accepted the posi- 
tion, tlie duties of which were not alto- 
gether disconnected from those of his 
late office, so far as they related to the 
settlement of open questions with Eng- 
land, which he had already had in hand. 
He reached London in September, and 
was received with every attention by 
the government. Before, however, he 
was well seated, his appointment, on 
being submitted to the Senate, was re- 
jected by that body, on the ostensible 
ground of certain instructions, in refer- 
ence to the trade with the West Indies, 
which he had forwarded, when Secre- 
tary of State, to the previous minister, 
Mr. McLane. The political constitu- 
tion of the Senate, which was now ar- 
raying its forces, may be presumed to 
have had more to do with the rejection, 
which was decided against the appoint- 
ment by the casting vote of the Vice- 
President, Mr. Calhoun. 

That act, it was often said, made Mr. 
Van Buren President. He was the 
victim of an opposition vote, and was 
ruthlessly thro%vn out from an honor- 
able office which he was well qualified 
to discharge. This, at least, was the 
view of the Democratic party,' and the 
friends of the President, who continued 
to give him his support. Consequently 
when General Jackson was nominated 
for reelection, it was with Martin Van 
Buren on the ticket for Vice-President. 
Both were chosen by a decided major- 
ity, the vote being the same, with the 
exception of that of Pennsylvania, 
which, in consequence of Mr. Van Bu- 
ren's anti-protectionist views, was with- 
held from hinL 



As the presiding officer of the Sen- 
ate, during the stoi-my period of Jack- 
son's second term, the new Vice-Presi- 
dent, by his parliamentary experience, 
imwearied attention, and that polished 
courtesy which always characterized 
his bearing, won golden opinions fi-om 
all parties. He was the devoted sup- 
porter of the measures of the Presi- 
dent in this active period, which wit- 
nessed the overthrow of the United 
States Bank, the decided stand taken 
with regard to nullification in South 
Carolina, and the indemnity negotia- 
tion with Louis Philippe. The reign 
of Jacksonism, as it was sometimes 
called, became fully established, and 
Mr. Van Buren succeeded to the re- 
tiring chieftain as his rightful political 
heir. He was nominated to the Presi 
dency at Baltimore, in May, 1835, and 
in the ensuing election of the follo-vving 
year was chosen by a majority of forty 
six votes over all other candidates. 

His inauguration, on the 4th of 
March, 1837, was duly celebrated ac- 
cording to custom, by the delivery of 
an address, and administration of the 
oath at the portico of the Capitol. The 
day was a very fine one, as the new 
President was driven to the spot, seated 
alongside of the retii-ing incumbent, in 
a phaeton made of the wood of the 
frigate Constitution, which had been 
presented to General Jackson by the 
democracy of New York. The adcbess 
was chiefly a eulogy on the success of 
the Government in its triumph over all 
previous obstacles. The agitation of 
the slavery question was pointedly al- 
luded to and deprecated in earnest 
terms. The speaker renewed his 



126 



MARTIN VAN BUREN. 



pledge as "the inflexible and uncom- 
promising opponent of ever)' attempt 
on the part of Congress to abolish 
slavery in the District of Columbia, 
against the wishes of the slavelioUling 
States ; and also his determination, 
equally decided, to resist the slightest 
interference ^\^th it in the States where 
it exists." 

In the selection of his Cal)inet, 'Mr. 
Van Buren retained those who held 
office under the late administration, in- 
cluding John Foi'S}*th, of Georgia, in 
the State Deitartnient ; Lrcvi Woodbury, 
of New Hampshii-e, in the Treasury ; 
Amos Kendall in the Post Office, and 
Benjamin F. Butler as Attorney-Gene- 
ral. j\Ir. Poinsett, of South Carolina, 
was appointed in the War Department 
to succeed General Cass, who pi-oceeded 
a.s Minister to France. The bureau of 
adiuinistrati<m thus organized, the gov- 
ernment with an established, recog- 
nized policy, appeared to have an easy 
coui-se before it. There was, however, 
a cloud rising which soon burst upon 
the country. Tlie difficulty arose from 
the banks out of the ])lethora of 
the public treasury. A large surplus 
had accumulated in the State banks, 
which were the substitutes of the 
former national institution, Avhich was 
now to be divided among the States. 
Credit had been stimulated, paper 
money had been expanded, and the 
result was now the contraction, memo- 
rable in our commercial annals, of the 
year 1837. The banks suspended spe- 
cie payments, millions of value were 
depreciated, and the whole system of 
trade and industrj' seemed in utter 
■wTeck and ruin. An extra session of 



I Congress was called in September, tc 
take into consideration the state of 
alYaii-s in relation to the public credit 
A message from the President proposed 
the remedy which, known under the 
name of the Sub-Treasury, has jvissed 
into an established feature of the gov- 
ernment unquestioned in party con- 
flicts. The Independent Treasury Bill, 
which thus sopiu'ated the financial af- 
faire of the State from all banks what- 
soever, making the cai'e of the gold and 
silver paid for duties, a simple matter 
of safe keeping, under the charge of 
certain officers, met at the outset with 
considerable opposition. It passed the 
Senate in this extra session but was tle- 
feated in the House of Representatives. 
The same tate attended it in the next 
recrular session. It did not become a 
law till the last year of Mr. Van 
Biu-en's Presidential term, in 1S40. It 
was imdoubtedly the most im]iortant 
event of his administration. 

The foreign policy of the country 
was conducted with ability during this 
period. Two questions of some im- 
portance arose in these connections, one 
in relation to Texas, the other regjird- 
ing the management of the frontier 
difficulties with Great Britain. In 
respect to the former, which came uji on 
the j)roposition for the annexation of 
Texas to the Union, the President was 
opposed to the measure. He thought 
the inde|ieudence of that State had not 
been fully recognized by the United 
States, and that to enter upon annex 
ation woidd be, as the event proved, to 
encounter hostilities with Mexico, with 
which country he desired to maintain 
peace. In the Maine Boundary Question 



MARTIN VAN BIJIIEN. 



li/ 



and tlie Niasrara frontier disturbances 
he pursued a firm and equable policy, 
protecting tbe rights of the country 
and checking the lawless spirit which 
had been aroused within our own bor- 
ders. 

In the election of 1840 Mr. Van 
Buren was again the candidate of his 
])arty, in a canvass in which he suffered 
an overwhelming defeat. The country, 
depressed by the financial crisis from 
which it had not yet recovered, was 
bent upon political change. General 
Harrison, a po^ralar hero of the West 
was nominated hj the Wliigs and borne 
into office by a triumphant vote. He 
received two hundred and thirty-four 
electoral votes against the sixty of Pre- 
sident Van Buren. The administration 
of the latter being thus ended, he re- 
tired from Washington on the accession 
of the new President, to his old home 
at Kinderhook, where he had purchased 
an estate which had belonged to the late 
Judge Van Ness, to which he gave the 
name Lindenwold. In 1844 his friends 
again broiight him forward as a candi- 
date for the Presidency, and an earnest 
effort was made for his nomination in the 
national convention of his party at Bal- 
timore. It might have been obtained 
for him but for a letter which he wrote 
in favor of deferring the annexation of 
Texas till the consent of Mexico should 
be obtained. Something more decided 
was required by the convention on this 
point, and the nomination was given to 
Mr. Polk, who was less scrupulous in 
regard to the measure. Mr. Van Buren, 
true to the party organization, which 
he had done so much to aid in previous 
days, gave an influential support to the 



democratic candidate, and on hia elec- 
tion, was tendered the mission to Eng- 
land, which he declined. Four years 
now elapsed, and 1848 brought round 
again the recurring struggle for the 
Presidency. A division had arisen in 
the ranks of the democracy in the State 
of New York, involving the question 
of the introduction of slavery into the 
new ten-itory acquired from Mexico. 
Two delegations were sent from rival 
factions to the nominating convention 
of the party at Baltimore. In the poli- 
tical nomenclature of the day one bore 
the name of Hunkers, the other of Barn- 
bui-ners. The latter, which represented 
the interests of Mr. Van Buren, was in 
favor of freedom in the teiTitories. Re- 
solutions were passed in the conven- 
tion admitting l)oth delegations, upon 
which the Barnburners retired. The 
faction of the latter then held a con- 
vention of their own at Utica, at which 
Mr. Van Buren was nominated as an 
independent democratic candidate of 
the Free Soil party, as it began to be 
called. General Cass was the regular 
nominee at Baltimore, and General Tay- 
lor of the Whigs. The result of the 
election was a Free Soil popular vote for 
Van Buren, chiefly drawn from New 
York, which gave him over 120,000; 
Massachusetts, 38,058; Ohio, over 
35,000; Illinois, nearly 16,000; Penn- 
sylvania, about 11,000— an aggregate 
of 291,378. General Cass received 
1,233,795 votes ; General Taylor's votes 
exceeded this by 138,447. Mr. Van 
Buren did not receive the electoral vote 
of a sincrle State. 

Mr. Van Buren, "a pa.ssive instm- 
ment in the hands of his old and de- 



128 



MAKTIN "VAN BUREN. 



voted frioiKls," ajipears to liave been 
little conaTiK-d at the result. It was 
not hia luiinor or his character. He 
had seen enmigh of ]>arty not to be 
greatly affected by its decisions, and he 
had, moreover, reached an age of honor- 
able, well-earned repose, which his 
habits of study and reflection, a certain 
pliil<isophic temper, and his happy 
family relations disposed him to enjoy. 
The retirement of Mr. Van Buren's 
latter days was varied by a visit to 
Kiiro])e, undertaken for his health in 
1853. There he remained for more 
than a year, visiting various countries 
and enjo}-ing such attention as befitted 
the elevated career in which he had 
moved. On liis return his time was 
chiefly "passed at his estate of Linden- 
wold, among the scenes of his child- 
hood, in Coliunbia County, varied by 
an occasional visit to New York. An 
asthmatic affection was gradually grow- 
ing u})on him, Avhich increased in inten- 
sity, and finally brought him to his end. 
His death occurred on the 24th of July, 
18G2, in the midst of the great jiolitical 
and social revolution, which in the 
stonn of civil war was shakint; the 
land to its foundations. In the public 
honors which were paid to his memory 
the association was not forsrotten. Pre- 
sident Lincoln, in a national tribute of 
respect, announced his death to the 
country. "This event," was the lan- 
guage of his Proclamation, " aa^II occa- 
sion mourning in the nation for the loss 
of a citizen and a public servant whose 
memor)' will be gratefully cherished. 
Although it has occurred at a time 
when his country is afilicted with divi- 
pion and civil war, the grief of his patri- 



otic friends will measurably be assuaged 
by the consciousness that, while suffer- 
ing with disease, and seeing his end 
aj)proaching, his prayers were for the 
restoration of the authority of the 
Government of which he had l)een the 
head, and for peace and good-will 
among his fellow-citizens. As a mark 
of resjiect for his menior}\ it is ordered 
that the Executive Mansion and the 
several Executive De])artments, except- 
ing those of the War and Navy, be im- 
mediately placed in mourning, and all 
business be suspended during to-mor- 
row. It is further ordered that the 
War and Navy Departments cause suit- 
able militar}"^ and naval honors to be 
paid on this occasion to the memory of 
the illustrious dead." The courts of 
New York paid their eulogies to the 
man and his active influential life. 

The funeral services were perfonned 
at the Dutch Church, in the village of 
Kiuderhook, in the presence of a large 
gathering of friends and neighbors, 
when a discourse befitting the occa- 
sion was delivered by a friend of the 
deceased, the Rev. Dr. J. Romeyu Beny, 
in which a stirring incentive to patriot- 
ism, rendered doubly impressive by the 
national crisis, was a j)rominent topic. 

]Mi\ Van Buren had been long a 
widower, his wife having died in 1818, 
twelve years after their marriage, leav- 
ing him a family of four sons, Abraham, 
John, Martin, and Smith Thompson. 
Mr. John Van Buren is well known as 
an eminent legal practitioner in New 
York, and more widely of late by his 
active participation in the political 
movements of the day. 

The more prominent characteristics 



MARTIN VAN BUREN. 



129 



of Mr. Van Buren have been delicately 
touched by a son of one of his most 
devoted friends, Mr. William Allen But- 
ler, in an interesting obituary sketch 
of the " Lawyer, Statesman and Man." 
" In his personal traits," says he, " Mr. 
Van Buren was marked by a rare indi- 
viduality. He was a gentleman, and 
he cultivated the society of gentlemen. 
He never had any associates who were 
vulgar or vicious. He affected the 
companionship of men of letters, 
though I think his conclusion was 
that they are apt to make poor poli- 
ticians and not the best of fi-iends. 
Where he acquired that peculiar neat- 
ness and polish of manners which he 
wore so lightly, and which served 
eveiy turn of domestic, social, and 
public intercourse, I do not know. It 
could hardly be called natural, al- 
though it seemed so natural in him. 
It was not put on, for it never was put 
off. As you saw him once you saw 
him always — always punctilious, al- 
ways polite, always cheerful, always 
self-possessed. It seemed to any one 
who studied this phase of his character 
as if, in some early moment of destiny, 
his whole nature had been bathed in a 
cool, clear and unruffled depth, from 
which it drew this life-long serenity 
and self-control. It was another of 

17 



the charges against him that he was 
no Democrat. He dressed too well, he 
lived too well, the company he kept 
was too good, his tastes were too re- 
fined, his tone was too elegant. So far 
as democracy is supposed to have an 
elective affinity for dirt, this was aU 
true ; he was no Democrat in taste or 
feeling, and he never pretended to 
be. . . . As to the elements of the 
widest popularity, they were not in' 
him. He never inspired enthusiasm, 
as Jackson did, or Henry Clay. The 
masses accepted him as a leader, but 
they never worshipped him as a 
hero. . . . Mr. Van Buren has 
left memoirs, partly finished. If his 
reminiscences can be given to the 
world as he was in the habit of giving 
them to his friends, in all the fresh- 
ness of familiar intercourse, they will be 
most attractive. There was a charm 
about his conversation when it turned 
on the incidents of his personal experi- 
ence which could hardly be transferred 
to the printed page, so much of its 
interest depended on manner and ex- 
pression. Mr. Van Buren had no wit, 
but he had humor, and a keen sense 
for the humorous, and he could repro- 
duce with rare fidelity whatever in the 
actions or the character of men he had 
thought worth remembering." 



AVILLIAM HENRY HAKRISON. 



The Virginia Harrison family, of 
which the President of the United 
States was • descended, is traced to a 
colonial ancestor in the middle of the 
seventeenth centiirj'. A son of this 
early inhabitant gave birth to Benja- 
min Harrison, who established the line 
at the family seat at Berkeley, Charles 
City County, on James River. He was 
a la^\'}•e^, speaker of the House of 
Burgesses, and much esteemed in the 
colony, where he exercised a liberal 
influence by his virtues and hosjiitali- 
ty. His grandson of the same name 
was the signer of the Declaration of 
Independence, and father of the Presi- 
dent. 

The family had always taken an 
active part in public affairs, propor- 
tioned to its growing Avealth and im- 
portance, and the young Benjamin, 
who was early left to the care of the 
estate, was not disposed to avoid this 
responsibility. He took his seat in the 
House of Burgesses, before he reached 
the legal age, and became at once 
marked out l)y his fu-mness and ability 
as a political leader. He was one of 
the committee appointed in 1764 to 
prepare an address to the king, and 
memorials to parliament on the resolu- 
tions of the House of Commons, prepa- 
ratoiy to the Stamp Act. "When the 



first independent convention of dele- 
gates met at Williamsburgh, ten yeara 
aftenvard, when the mismanagement 
of pailiament had ripened the country 
for revolt, he was sent a member of the 
first Continental Congress, which met 
in Philadel])hia. He was also a mem- 
ber of the second Virginia assembly of 
delegates at Richmond in 1775, which 
took the active measures placing the 
county in a state of self-defence and 
resistance. He at first regarded these 
steps as premature, but speedily acqui- 
esced in the vote of the House. He 
was again returned to the second and 
more important General Congress at 
Philadeli)hia. An anecdote is related 
of him at this time in connection with 
John Hancock. When the spirited 
Boston leader showed some reluctance 
or diffidence in accepting the Presi- 
dency on the retirement of Peyton 
Randolph, Harrison, who was standing 
by him, is said to have seized him 
in his arms and placed him Ijodily 
in. the chair, with the exclamation, 
"We will show Mother Britain how 
little we care for her, by making a 
Massachusetts man our president, whom 
she has excluded from pardon by a 
public proclamation." ^ Another story 



* Life of Uarrison. Sandereoa's Biography of the 
SigQers. 

130 







' ' ■■'.■'■ ■■■ -" ■•■;■,■ ■■: „■ 'wjj=i|iii I 



^^./A 



WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 



131 



is narrated involving a similar allusion 
to his powerful figure, in his remark to 
Elbridge Gerry, his very opposite, in a 
slender, spare person, at the signing of 
the Declaration. "When the hanging 
scene comes to be exhibited," said Har- 
rison, as he raised his pen from the 
instrument, " I shall have all the ad- 
vantage over you. It will be over 
with me in a minute, but you will be 
kicking in the air half an hour after I 
am gone." Anecdotes like these, of 
such a man, show no levity of disposi- 
tion in conflict with the serious duties 
in which he was employed, but they 
do show an animation and good heart 
in the cause which needed every sup- 
port of physical temperament as well 
a.s mental resolve. Our fathers fouglit 
-with cheerfulness as well as resolution. 

HaiTison continued in Congress ac- 
tively employed in its various employ- 
ments till the close of 1111, when he 
only transferred his political duties to 
his native State. He was speaker of 
the House of Burgesses till 1V82, in- 
cluding the disastrous 'period of the 
invasion of Vii-ginia, and was then 
twice elected governor. He was again 
called from private life to sit in the 
State Convention, of the Constitution, 
to which he gave his influential sup- 
port, and was more or less engaged in 
public life to his death, in 1Y91. 

William Henry Harrison was his 
third son. He was born at Berkeley, 
the family residence, February 9, 1773 ; 
so that he came into the field of active 
life with the new generation which 
succeeded the Rcvolutionaiy era. His 
education was well provided f(jr under 
the care of the family friend, the finan- 



cier Kobert Morris, and at Hampden 
Sidney College in Virginia, whence he 
turned to the study of medicine. He 
had acquired some knowledge of the 
profession in the oflBce of a physician 
of Richmond, and was about to fjursue 
his studies with the celebrated Doctor 
Rush, at Philadelphia, when his father's 
death occurred, and, with some reluc- 
tance on the part of his family, he 
chose for himself a military life. He 
was aided by General Henry Lee in 
obtaining a commission as ensign in 
the 1st regiment of United States in- 
fantiy, and as the government had 
then an Indian war on its hands in the 
Western Tenitory, he at once, at the 
age of nineteen, found himself engaged 
in active service. Passing but a few 
days in Philadelphia, he hastened to 
his regiment, stationed at fort Wash- 
ington, the site of the present Cincin- 
nati, where he joined the remains of the 
broken forces of St. Clair, just escaped 
from the disastrous engagement at the 
Miami villages. It was thus that he 
was introduced to a region with which 
he became thoroughly identified, and 
his popularity in which, long after the 
scenes of war were over, carried him 
triumphantly into the Presidential 
chair. 

The ill fortune which had befallen 
St. Clair was calculated to rouse the 
warlike spirit of the generous youth ; 
and it had its lesson of caution and 
preparation in dealing with the In- 
dians, which was not lost upon subse- 
quent campaigns. When Major-Gene- 
ral Wayne took the field, in the sum- 
mer of 1793, HaiTison, now holding 
the rank of lieutenant in his regiment, 



132 



WILLIAM HENTIT HARRISON. 



wtis appointed his aid. In the brilliant 
enffacenient at the Kainds of the Miami, 
he distinguished liiniself by his valor, 
and secured from Wayne special men- 
tion in his dispatch of the victory, as 
'' one who rendcied the most essential 
service, by communicating my orders 
in every direction, and by his conduct 
and bravery exciting the troops to 
j>ress for victory." The l)attle on the 
IMiamis was fought August 20, 1Y94, 
and a year afterward, with various in- 
termediate demonstrations and negoti- 
ations brought forth its peaceable 
fruits in "Wayne's treaty of Greenville, 
which closed the war. 

Harrison was then, at the age of 
twenty-three, ^vith the rank of Captain, 
placed in command of Fort Washing- 
ton, where he about the same time was 
married to the daughter of John Cleves 
Symmes, whose name is so honorably 
distinguished in the history of the 
western settlements, and particularly 
as the founder of Cincinnati. The 
young officer held this post till 1797, 
when he sent in his resignation, with 
the intention thereafter, says his bio- 
grapher, Montgomery, " of devoting his 
time to the peaceful and more conge- 
nial pursuits of agriculture." He was 
speedily, however, withdrawn from 
these quiet anticipations to pul)lic du- 
ties, in his appointment by President 
Adams as secretary of the Northwest 
Territory, then under the government 
of St. Clair. When the Territory be- 
came organized, and was qualified to 
end a delegate to Congress, Harrison 
was chosen its first representative in 
1799. He distinguished Iiimself in this 
body by his activity and success in secur- 



ing to settlers the privilege of purchas- 
ing the public lands in small quantities, 
and in measures favoring their preemp- 
tion rights and modes of j)ayment. 

On the division of the Territory, 
Harrison was withdrawn from Con- 
gress to discharge the duties of the first 
governor of the newly foi-med Territoiy 
of Indiana, Avhich included the present 
States of Indiana, Illinois, ]\Iiehigan, 
and Wisconsin. This was in 1801, and 
the whole region now so populous 
numbered only five thousand j)eople, 
scattered over the whole country, ex- 
posed to the dangers of frontier life 
and the unsettled relations with the 
Indians. " With such difficulties," says 
his biographer, " it was no less a mat- 
ter of duty than of necessity that he 
should be clothed with the amplest 
independent powers. Amongst those 
of a civil as well as political nature 
conferred upon him were those jointly 
with those of the judges, of the legisla- 
tive functions of the Territoiy, the ap- 
pointment of all the civil officers w'ithin 
the Territory, and all the military offi- 
cers of a grade inferior in rank to that 
of general ; commander-in-chief of the 
militia ; the absolute and uncontrolled 
power of pardoning all offences; sole 
commissioner of treaties with the In- 
dians with unlimited powers, and the 
power of conferring, at his option, all 
grants of lands." Harrison held this 
proconsular office for sixteen years, diu'- 
ing which he saw the country steadily 
increasing in strength and prosperity ; 
though his career, experienced and pru- 
dent as it was, proved not \vithout dif 
ficulties with the Indians, rising at 
length to open warfare. 



WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 



13S 



The straggle, known as the battle of 
Tippecanoe, which took place on the 
seventh of November, 1811, involved 
various elements of preparation on the 
part of the savages, some of which im- 
part to their conduct of the war an inte- 
rest with which there will always be a 
certain degree of sympathy. The effort 
of a falling race to regain its authoiity 
under a leader like Tecumseh, assisted 
by the fanaticism of his brother the 
Prophet, is raised out of the rank of the 
ordinary Indian fighting propensities. 
The Indian chief was a hero of no ordi- 
nary class. To the virtues of the war- 
rior in arms, he united many of those 
moral qualities so powerful in strength- 
ening the courage of the soldier. lie 
was self-denying, forbearing, and even 
compassionate. Born in the centre of 
Ohio, he represented the races immedi- 
ately west of the Alleghanies, whom 
he appears early to have sought to 
unite against the whites. Consistently 
with his character for sincerity he de- 
clined to attend Wayne's council of 
peace at Greenville. His great effort 
was to bring the scattered tribes to act 
in concert. For this purpose he estab- 
lished, in 1808, an Indian settlement at 
the Ti])2>ecauoe River, a tributaiy of the 
Wabash, in Indiana, whither, with the 
aid of the Prophet, he brought together 
a considerable number of recruits to 
his mingled political and superstitious 
teaching. 

The "Wabash Prophet," as he was 
called, was at first considered a simple 
visionary. Jefferson, then in the Presi- 
dency, took this view of him, and thought 
little harm would come of his preaching 
the simple austerities of theii- forefathers 



to a race not remarkably disposed to ab- 
stinence and selfdenial. His success, 
however, and the activity and declara- 
tions of Tecumseh, with the imminent 
English war at hand, aroused the anxie- 
ties of the people of the Territory, and 
when positive ground was taken by the 
Indian leader at the conference of Vin- 
cennes against the progress of the treat- 
ies by which HaiTison was extending 
the authority of the whites, it was 
found necessary to assume a decided mi- 
litary stand. The governor therefore at 
length, in October, 1811, advanced his 
forces, composed of regulars and militia, 
officered by experienced western leaders, 
toward the Indian settlement presided 
over by the prophet on the Tippecanoe. 
Moving forward cautiously with a force 
of nine hundred men, he reached a sta- 
tion about a mile and a half from the 
town, where a militaiy encampment was 
formed, when some conferences were 
commenced with the foe. It was evi- 
dent that the j^urposes of the Prophet 
were hostile. Harrison arranged his 
men in order to receive the assaiilt, 
which was made by the Indians early on 
the morning of the seventh of Novem- 
ber. It was in fact a night attack, 
though commenced after fom* o'clock, a 
di'izzling rain, and the season of the year 
favoring the darkness. The onset was 
made with vigor, on all sides of the 
encampment, which was gallantly de- 
fended, with considerable loss of life by 
the rifle companies at their several sta- 
tions. The camp was thus resolutely 
held, and kej^t unbroken, tiU daybreak, 
when new military dispositions were 
made, and a charge at the point of the 
bayonet, put the Indians to the rout. 



134 



WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 



" "With this success," says Mr. Dawson, 
in his account of the battle,' " the engage- 
ment was ended ; both parties apjieared 
to have satisfied the expectations of 
their friends. The steady, undcviating 
courage of the American troops elicited 
great commendation ; while Governor 
Harrison, speaking of his savage ene- 
my, says ' the Indians manifested a 
ferocity uncommon even with them.' 
In this, however, they were inspirited 
by the religious fanaticism under which 
they acted — the Prophet, during the 
action, being posted on a neighboring 
eminence, sinixinc; a war-sonor; and in 
fiiint imitation of Moses in the wilder- 
ness, directing his people by the move- 
ments of his rod." The forces ene^ajied 
in this battle were probably about 
equal. The Americans lost some sixty 
officers and men killed, or who died of 
their wounds, beside the wounded sur- 
vivors, and the Indian loss was siip- 
posed to have been greater. 

The attack upon the American camp 
was urged and directed in the absence 
of Tecumseh, by the Pro])het, who 
promised in virtue of his soothsaying 
insight, an easy \actory. The result 
Avas that he altogether lost credit ^vith 
the tribes whom he had inveicrled to 
his town by his necromantic appeals. 
When the battle was fought, Tecumseh 
was on a journey to the Southern In- 
dians, whom he was stirring up to his 
warlike enterprises. He reached the 
Wabash on his return in time to wit- 
ness the first effects of the discomfiture 
of his followers, and it is said, so great 
was his indignation toward his brother, 



' BiatlM of the United Sutes, II. 93-81. 



the Prophet, that on his attempting to 
palliate his fool-hardy conduct, he seized 
him by the hair and threatened liis life. 
The disaster had liroken up his long 
entertained hope of an Indian confede- 
racy against the white man. The game, 
however, was not quite up yet. The 
desperation of the Indians was taken 
advantage of by the Britisli authorities 
on the frontier, to engage them in the 
war with America. In May, 1812, Te- 
cumseh openly joined the British stand- 
ard at Maiden. On the eigliteenth of 
the followinc: month war amiinst Great 
Britain was formally declared by Con- 



gress. 



The campaign of Hull in Canada, 
opened with brilliant promise in his in- 
vasion of the country, speedily to be 
checked by his inefficiency and to ter- 
minate in his ignominious suiTender of 
Detroit. This disaster, of a sufficiently 
afilictive character, so far however, from 
intimidating the western defenders, 
called them to new exertions, and vo- 
lunteer forces were raised in large num- 
liers in Ohio and Kentucky. There 
was at first some conflict of aiithority 
as to the command of the troops of the 
latter State, which, for the purpose of 
placing Hamson at their head, con- 
feiTcd upon him the brevet commission 
of Major-General, while the Secretary 
of War, ignorant of this movement, 
assigned the command to General "Win- 
chester. The difficulty, however, was 
speedily solved l)y the appointment of 
General Han'ison by the President, in 
September, commander-in-chief of the 
"Western Department, when the left 
\\"ing of the army was assigned to Gene- 
ral Winchester. Harrison himself took 



WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 



135 



his position in what tlie Britisli con- 
quests had now made the frontier, the 
northerly portion of Ohio bordering on 
Michigan, and made his headquarters 
at Upper Sandusky. 

The new year 1813, opened with a 
movement on the part of Winchester, 
now established at the rapids of the 
Maumee to protect the outlying settle- 
ments in Michigan on the Raisin River, 
a territory virtually in possession of 
the British. For this purpose Colonel 
Lewis was dispatched with a force over 
the frozen waters of the adjacent por- 
tion of Lake Erie to Frenchtown, from 
which the enemy were driven with 
great gallantry. This action occuiTed 
on the eighteenth of January. On the 
twenty-second, the victors in the mean- 
time having been joined by Winchester 
with a small body of troops, an attack 
was made upon the American position 
by Colonel Proctor, who had issued 
forth from the neighboring Maiden, 
only eighteen miles distant, with a con- 
sideraljle partj^ of royal troops, several 
pieces of artillery, and a formidable 
band of six hundi-ed Indians. The 
camp was taken uuj^repared ; such re- 
sistance as could be offered at the mo- 
ment was made, but the American 
defeat was complete. Such was the 
cruelty of the Indian allies and the 
merciless conduct of the British com- 
mander, that the action, an indelible 
disgrace to the British arms, passes 
in histoiy as the massacre at the River 
Raisin. Both the officers, Lewis and 
Winchester were captured; of about 
a thousand American troops engaged, 
but thirty -tkree escaped, nearly four 
hundred were killed or missing, and 



the rest taken prisoners. General Har- 
rison, though he disapproved of the 
more than questionable attempt at hold- 
ing a position like Frenchtown in the 
face of the superior foe, did all that he 
could to save the fortunes of the army 
by hastening thither with recruits ; but 
the action was fought and the disaster 
completed before he reached the scene. 
All fuiiher onward movements were of 
com'se, for the time, unavailing, and 
the commander-in-chief intrenched his 
forces at the Rapids of the Maumee, 
constructing there a foi-t, named in 
honor of Governor Meigs, of Ohio. 

The next important event of the war 
in this quarter was the attack on this 
fort in the spring, by a force led by 
General Proctor, of over two thousand 
men, more than one half of whom were 
Indians, and of the rest above five hun- 
dred were regulars. He made good his 
landing on the river two miles below 
the fort ; but he had this time a more 
dilicent commander than Winchester to 
encounter. Harrison, who anticipated 
an attack, had hastened from a recruit- 
ing mission to Cincinnati, to superintend 
the defence. The fort was defended by 
its elevated position and the usual pro- 
tection of works of that kind, of pick- 
ets and block houses. As a further 
protection against the pieces of artillery 
which the besiegers were bringing to 
bear upon it, a heavy embankment was 
earned across the works which sheltered 
the troops from the enemy's fii-e. The 
batteries of the assailants were-opened 
on the first of May, and continued with 
euero-y for four days with little effect, 
when the arrival in the vicinity of Ken- 
tucky reinforcements under General 



136 



WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 



Clay, which Harrison had originally 
sent for, gave the commander the oppor- 
tunity to plan a concerted attack upon 
the besicgei"3. It \v:vs made Ity a sally 
from the fort and two divisions of 
Clay's troops at ditierent points with 
various success ; but the result was the 
virtual discomfiture or defeat of the 
British. The fighting of that fifth' of 
i\Iay, proved the superiority of the Ame- 
ricans and a few days after the seige was 
abandoned. 

We here meet again with the Indian 
leader, Tecumseh, who proved himself a 
skillful combatant in the day's work, 
and who, we may mention, had exhibited 
his prowess in the campaign in Michi- 
gan at the expense of a detachment of 
Hull's command previous to his siu'- 
render. A story of this chieftain's in- 
terposition in saving some of the pri- 
soners taken l)y the British in this action 
before Fort Meigs, is creditable to his 
humanity, while the necessity for such 
interposition adds another item to the 
fearfid account against Proctor for his 
treachery and cruelty at the Kiver Rais- 
in. While a dispute was raging be- 
tween the Potawatamies and the more 
merciful Miamis and Wyandots, as to 
the fate of the caj)tives, the work of 
scalj)ing and slaughter having been al- 
ready wreaked on some twenty defence- 
less ^nctims, Tecumseh came upon the 
spot flourishing his hatchet, and it is 
said burying it in the head of a chief en- 
gaged in the bloody work, commanded 
them, for shame to desist. "It is a dis- 
grace," said he, " to kill a defenceless 
prisoner:" and his order was obeyed.^ 

" Dawson'B Scige of Fort Meigs. Battles of the United 
States. 



The loss of the Americans in the seige 
and the action was gi'eater than that of 
the British ; but we are to consider in 
the number of the slain those pei-fidi- 
ously murdered by the savage allies of 
the enemy. Proctor, at any rate, was 
unable to stand before the American 
forces now thickenincr around him. 

Thus relieved of the presence of the 
enemy. General Harrison waited tho 
effects of Perry's movements on the 
lake below. Once in command of Lake 
Erie, the British occupation of Michigan 
he felt would now be abandoned. The 
interim between this time and Peng's 
victory which opened the way to the ex- 
pected conquests was honorably marked 
by INIajor Croghan's gallant defence of 
Fort Stej)henson, against another attack 
of Proctor. That action was fought on 
the first of August; on the tenth of 
September, Peny defeated and captured 
the whole British squadron. Harrison 
who had been impatiently waiting this 
result, now rapidly matured his meas- 
ures for the reconqiiest of the counti-y 
overrun by the British. Employing the 
smaller vessels taken from the enemy 
to transport a portion of his forces, now 
j)owei'fully recruited by the Kentucky 
volunteers, Harrison effected a landing 
on the Canadian shore, on the twenty- 
seventh of the month, and advancing 
to Maiden, found it abandoned by the 
British and its fort and storehouses de- 
stroyed. Proctor, with all his royal 
forces accompanied by Tecumseh Avith 
his Indians, had retreated within the 
peninsula along the line of the Thames, 
which empties into Lake St. Clair. 
General Hamson, leaving detachments 
of his force at Sandwich and Detroit^ 



WILLIAM HEXRY HARRISON. 



137 



now regained, pushed on Avitli a com- 
pany of about a hundred and forty re- 
gulars, Colonel Richard M. Johnson's 
mounted Kentuckians, and Governor 
Shelby's volunteers, also Kentuckians, 
after the retreating foe. Lewis Cass 
and Commodore Peny were with him 
as volunteer aids. The whole force 
amounted to about three thousand five 
hundred men. For some distance along 
the river the troops were accompanied 
by the smaller vessels of the fleet. 

The progress of the Americans along 
the route was of the most exciting 
character as they drove in the enemy 
fi'om the defence of the bridges which 
lay in their way. On the fifth of Octo- 
ber they came up with the British forces 
of Proctor drawn up in the vicinity of 
the Moravian town. He had some eight 
hundred regular troops and about two 
thousand Indians. They were posted 
in front of the road and in an open 
wood flanked by the river on one hand 
and a swamp on the other. The Indians 
adjoined the swamp on the enemy's 
right. The attack was made on the 
front by the mounted Kentuckians, 
whose charge at once threw that portion 
of the foe into utter confusion, driv- 
ing through their ranks and assailing 
them from the rear. Colonel Johnson, 
meanwhile, was engaged in a stubborn 
conflict with the Indians, who, directed 
by the skill of Tecumseh, reserved their 
fii-e to tell with deadly effect upon 
the advancing column. Johnson was 
wounded, but his Kentuckians were not 
to be dismayed. Dismounting from 
their horses they plied their rifles with 
great effect against the Indians who 
Btood their ground well, but being un- 
18 



supported by their British employers, 
were soon compelled to retreat. Proc- 
tor himself had already taken to flight. 
Tecumseh was slain in the battle, the 
most illustrious victim of the day. The 
number of chivalrous leaders engaged 
in the American ranks, men who were 
then or afterward became greatly cele- 
brated, Johnson, Cass, Peny, Shelby, 
is noticeable, while more than a quarter 
of a century later, " The battle of the 
Thames" was to be one of the watch- 
words of victory for its General in a 
great political contest. 

The effect of this successful termina- 
tion of the contest following upon Per- 
ly's naval triumph— a success enhanced 
by the embarrassments and failures of 
the early part of the struggle — upon 
the West, can hardly be appreciated at 
the present day. It was a release from 
danger and from fear, from a remorse- 
less foe and the scalping knife of the 
savage. With Tecumseh fell the last 
Indian enemy known to a great region 
of the West. Henceforth we are to 
follow his successful adversaiy through 
the paths of civil life. General Ham- 
son was not engaged in the later occu- 
pations of the army. He was in efi^ect 
driven to retii'ement by the arrange- 
ments of General Annstrong, the Sec- 
retaiy of War, by whom he was, under 
some adverse influence or other, virtu- 
ally suspended in his command. When 
he was omitted in the plan of the next 
year's campaign, he resigned the com- 
mission which he held as major-general, 
and its accompanpng emoluments. 

He now resided at his farm at North 
Bend, on the Ohio, near Cincinnati, 
which henceforth, in the intervals of 



138 



WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 



public occupation to which he was fre- 
quently calleii, continued his residence. 
He was in Congress from 1816 to 1818, 
a memher of tlie House of Representa- 
tives, ami from 1S24 to 1828 a member 
of the Senate. Between these dates he 
sat in the Ohio Senate. In 1828 we 
find him appointed by President John 
Quinov Adams, Minister Plenipoten- 
tiary to the Kepublic of Columbia, 
He reached Bogota, the seat of his du- 
ties, in February of the next year, and 
was received with favor, but he had 
hardly entered u]>on the mission when 
President Jackson coming into olHce, he 
was recalled. Resuming again his agi'i- 
cultural jnu-suits at North Bend \ipon 
his return, he was occasionally called 
upon to deliver public addresses and 
speeches, of which several were }u-inted. 
One of these, which was republished 
during his canvass for the presidency, 
was a discourse before the Philosophical 
and Historical Society of Ohio, in 1837, 
in which he took the aborigines of the 
State for his text. He had some talent 
for comi)osition and w;us fond of illus- 
trations drawn from ancient history. 

In 1830, General ILurison was a can- 
didate for the presidency in opposition 
to Van Buren. Though the strength 
of the Whig party which he represented, 
w.is somewhat divided, he received 
seventy-three electoral votes, a sufficient 
test of his popidarity to bring him into 
the field again at the next election. 
The elements of opposition had in the 
meantime gained force; the countr}' 
was suffering under an extraordinaiy 
financial depression ; there was discon- 
tent on ,all sides. General Harrison re- 
ceived the nomination of twenty-two 



states at Han-isburg, and was triumph- 
! antly borne into the presidential chair. 
A peculiarity of the canvass was the 
po]nilar good will, which eagerly seiz- 
insic hold of the " loix cabin" and "hard 
cider" as emblems of the simplicity of 
his early western life, turned them to 
political account. "Log cabins" were 
set up in villages and towns through- 
out the country, at which hard cider or 
its more comfortable eipiivalents were 
fi'eely dispensed. Carried rapidly on- 
ward in the })opular enthusiasm, he i-e- 
ceived the electoral vote of twenty of 
the twenty-six States, and two hundred 
and thirty-four electoral votes against 
only sixty given to Mr. Van Buren. 

The inauguration of President Harri- 
son at Washington, took place on the 
4th of March, 1841 ; on the same day of 
the following month he breathed his 
last. The active duties of his responsi- 
ble station, the exacting pretensions of 
olHce seekers who beset a new president, 
the pressure of the pre\'iou3 canvass, 
may have all contributed to the severity 
of the shock which de2>rived him of life. 
He was sixty-eight years old, a time of 
life when any great change of habit 
may easily destroy the constitution; 
when a simple cause may shake a wea- 
ried frame, A slight cold which he 
took by exposure to the rain \\ as fol- 
lowed by sudden prostration; a diar- 
rhoea set in, and after an illness of but 
a few days he exj^ired. His last words, 
heard by his physician, Dr. AVorthing- 
ton, were as if addressing his successor, 
"Sir, I wish you to understand the true 
principles of the government. I wish 
them carried out. I ask nothing more " 
lu anuouuciug the event to the public, 



WILLIAM HEXRY HARRISON. 



139 



the rnemhcrs of the Cabinet, of which 
Daniel Webster was at the head, wrote: 
"The people of the United States, over- 
whelmed like ourselves, Ly an event so 
unexpected and so melancholy, will 
derive consolation from knowing that 
his death was calm and resigned as his 
life had been patriotic, useful, and dis- 
tinguished ; and that the last utterance 
fj'om his lips expressed a fervent desire 
for the perjjetuity of the constitution 
and the preservation of its true princi- 
j»les. In death, as in life, the happiness 
of his country Avas uj>permost in his 
thoughts." 

The personal qualities of General 
Harrison had much to do with his ele- 



vation to the presidency. His life was 
marked by a union of moderation with 
good fortune and substantial success in 
public affairs. He was prosperous as a 
commander where others failed; he was 
' identified with the growth and prospe- 
! rity of a powerful region of the repub- 
lic ; he had made few enemies though 
he had been the sultject of hostility, 
and he had been too long retired from 
1 public life to awaken any new preju- 
dices. His military reputation, after 
the precedent of Jackson, was doubtless 
in his favor; but a belief in his good 
sense and his integrity, -with the expecta- 
tions of the times, in a change of policy, 
were the elements of his success. 



JOHN TYLEK. 



The fiiniily of John Tyler was of an 
old English stock, establisliod in Vir- 
ginia from the early days of the settle- 
ment He is said, in fact, by one of his 
biographers, to be descended fi'om that 
redoubtable Walter or "Watt Tyler, the 
man of Kent who offered such brave 
resistance to the tax-gatherei-s of the 
second Richard, and who had for his 
associate the famous John Ball, a reve- 
rend itinerant, to Avhom is attributed 
the wholesome democratic inquiry 

When Adam delved and Eve span 
Who was then the gentleman t 

Be all this, however, as it may, the 
grandfather of the President was a re- 
spectable lauilholder in the colony of 
Virginia, in the vicinity of Williams- 
burgh, enjoying the office of marshal in 
the ante-revolutionary period. His son, 
John Tyler, born in time to take pai-t 
in the new era, was a member of the 
House of Delegates from Charles City 
County when Patrick IL^nry and his as- 
sociates sounded the first notes of revolt. 
As the cause advanced he devoted his 
fortunes and energies to the patriotic 
work, and was rewarded by the suf- 
frages of the people with the highest 
honors of the State. He rose to be 
speaker of the House of Delegates, 
Governor of the State, Judge of the 



United States District Court, and in hia 
last days, in the period of the second 
war with England, was created by Pre- 
sident Madison, Judge of the Federal 
Court of Admiralty. He died at the 
age of sixty-five. He was the intimate 
friend and coiTespondent of Patrick 
Hemy, for whom he entertained an 
ardent admii-ation. No one was more 
esteemed or better thought of in the 
State. 

This revolutionary patriot left three 
sons, the first of whom apj)ears to have 
been called Watt, after the old English- 
man of the people, the stout rebel of 
the fourteenth century. The second, 
destined to occupy the chair of the Pre- 
sident of the United States, named after 
his father and grandtathei', John, was 
born in Charles City County, March 
29, 1790. The youth had the educa- 
tion and training of the son of a Vir- 
ginia gentleman. At the aue of twelve 
he entered the college of William and 
Mary, at Williamsburg, and enjoyed 
the particular friendship of the venera- 
ble Bishop ^ladison, who had then pre- 
sided over the institution for a quarter 
of a centurv. He graduated with ere- 
dit, his commencement adtb-ess on 
"Female Education" gaining more than 
the usual pl.iudits vt' such occasions, 

and next occupied himself with the 

HO 



JOnX TYLER. 



141 



study of tlic law, pai'tly with liis father 
tlie juflge, partly with the eminent 
la^vyer Edmund Rand(jlj)h, Avho was at 
one time Governor of the State, and 
who was conspicuous in the affairs of 
the nation as a member of the old 
Congress, the Convention of the Con- 
stitution, and the cabinet of President 
Washington. At nineteen, we are told, 
he was permitted to practice at tlie bar, 
no question being made as to his age ; 
and his success was decided. On ar- 
riving at twenty-one he was imani- 
mously elected a member of the House 
of Delegates. It was at the season 
when the war with Great Britain, long 
imminent was on the eve of actual out- 
break. The topic was an attractive 
one for mrtny a nascent orator through- 
out the country, and was not neglected 
by the youthful Tyler. By education 
and tradition he belonged to the demo- 
cratic party, and his voice was raised in 
favor of a vigorous prosecution of hos- 
tilities by the government. When the 
war had been entei-ed upon and the 
British foi'ccs in Chesapeake Bay threat- 
ened an attack on Norfolk and Rich- 
mond, the young legislator turned his 
attention to the more active prepara- 
tion for the field. He occupied him- 
self in raising a company of militia in 
his county, whose services happily ^vere 
not called for. This slight flavor of 
warfare in comparison with the impor- 
tant military deeds of many of the oc- 
cupants of the Presidential chair, gave 
him the familiar title, during his can- 
vass for the Presidency, of Captain 
Tyler ; a title by which he is yet occa- 
sionally named. 

We must not, however, anticipate 



this portion of his career. He con- 
tinued for five years a member of the 
House of Delegates in Virginia, in the 
last of which he was raised to a seat in 
the executive council. He had hardly, 
however, entered, upon this new honor' 
when another awaited him, at the close 
of 181G, in his election to the House of 
Rejjresentatives, to fill a vacancy caused 
by the death of the incumbent. His 
rival in the canvass was a gentleman, 
Mr. Andrew Stevenson, afterward dis- 
tinguished at Washington, whom he 
defeated by a majority of some thirty 
votes. At the next regular election his 
triumph over the same candidate was 
more decided. In his coui-se in the 
House he pursued generally the career, 
so plainly marked out under the rigid 
party discipline in that State, of a state- 
rights or strict constructional Virginia 
politician. He was opposed to internal 
improvements, and to that great evil in 
the eyes of all thoroughly-trained demo- 
crats, a national bank. He ojiposed Mr. 
Clay in his attempt to gain the recog- 
nition of the independence of the South 
American Rejiublics, but was with him 
in the censure of General Jackson's as- 
sumptions of responsibility in the Semi- 
nole wars. A third time elected to Con- 
gress, he voted in 1820 for the unre- 
stricted admission of Missouri into 
the Union. Before his new term of 
office had expired he was comjielled to 
seek retirement in consequence of ill 
health. He returned to his farm in 
Charles City County, and continued, the 
practice of his profession. 

According to a custom which does 
honor to American politics, he thought 
it no indignity after occupying a seat 



Ul 



JOHN TYLER. 



in the national councils, to retum aj^ain 
to tho luiniMor ilutios, \vitli wliioli ho 
had comnienceil life, of sennce in the le- 
gislature of liis state. lie W!\s for three 
years, from IS'23 in tho House of Dele- 
gates, aj)]>lying his best otVorts to the 
welfare of Virginia. It is an example 
whioh might be more generally imitated. 
Our state legislatures embrace a variety 
of interests unknown to the national 
representatives at Washington, and the 
maturity of years and exjierience might 
be bi-ought to them with effect. Mr. 
T}ler in this capacity applied his efforts 
to the imjnwouient of Virginia, (ind 
many of the finest roads in the state, it 
is said, are due to his exertions. 

In IS'Jo he was chosen Governor of 
the State, and in the following year 
was taken from that office to succeed 
John Randolph in the Senate of the 
United States. It was the third year 
of the administration of John Quincy 
Adams when he took his seat and he 
at once engaged on the side of the op- 
position, that is in support of the ine- 
vitable nomination of General Jackson 
as the succeeding President. In the 
late election he had been in fivvor of 
the Southern candidate, Mr. Crawford, 
and on the decision being carried into 
the House, had chcei-fiilly acquiesced in 
Mr. Clay's casting vote for Mr. Adams. 
The latter soon lost ground and every 
means was taken for his defeat. 

When General Jackson was elected, 
Mr. Tyler was one of his supporters in 
the Senate, at least on such questions 
as his rejection of internal improve- 
ments and veto of the Bank. He op- 
posed a tariff for protection. On one 
Lmportaut measure, however, he was in 



' opposition to the President. He took 
part with tho South Carolinians in thoir 
nullification doctrines, and spoke against 
the Force Bill introduced into the Se- 
nate to aid General Jackson in their 
overthrow. When Mr. Clay introduced 
his compromise bill, modifying the ob- 
noxious tariff", Mr. T}der gave it his 
support. 

On the close of his term in IS'M, he 
was again elected to the Senate. It 
was the beginning of that second term 
of Jackson's administration memorable 
in the annals of the country for the 
accomplishment of his wart;u-e against 
that political giant, the Bank of the 
United States. To these measures Mr. 
Tyler in conjunction Mnth IMr. Calhoun 
and other members of his party stood 
opposed. He voted in favor of Mr. 
Clay's resolutions of censure, standing 
on his c>ld Virginia ground as a strict 
constructionist, hostile to all undue as- 
sumptions of power on the part of the 
Executive. He did this at the time no 
less in accordance with his own feelings 
than with the vioAvs of the Virginia le- 
cislature which had elected him. Time 
passed on, and the President, gaining 
ground throughout the country and in 
the Senate, the pertinacious resolution 
of Mr. Bonton to expunge the obnoxious 
resolution was pressed to a final issue. 
Mr. Tyler now received instructions to 
vote for it. What should he do ? The 
right of instruction and the duty of the 
Representative to obey it had always 
been a maxim of his political creed, 
which it so happened that he had on 
more than one occasion in his career, 
lirought conspicuously before the pub- 
lic Could he now tUsavow hia chtv 



JOHN TYLER. 



143 



rished convictions? One choice was 
left him — to resign, and he cheerfully 
met the issue, resigning his seat in the 
Senate rather than take part in the 
mutilation of tlie sacred record. In his 
letter of resignation to the Legislature 
of Virginia he wrote : " I dare not touch 
the Journal of the Senate. The Con- 
stitution forbids it. In the midst of all 
the agitations of party, I have hereto- 
fore stood ]>y that sacred instniment. 
It is the only post of honor and of safety. 
A seat in the Senate is sufficitnitly ele- 
vated to fill tJie measure of any man's 
ambition ; and as an evidence of the 
sincerity of my convictions that your 
resolutions cannot be executed, without 
violating my oath, I sun-ender into your 
hands three unexpired years of my term. 
I shall carry with me into retirement 
the principles which I brought with me 
into public life, and by the surrender 
of the high station to which I was 
called by the voice of the people of 
Virginia, I sliall set an example to my 
children which shall teach tliem to re- 
gard as nothing, place and office, when 
to be either obtained or held at the sac- 
rifice of honor." In the excited state 
of the political world at tlie time, when 
the attention of the whole community 
was fastened upon the scene in the Se- 
nate, such an act could not escape notice. 
It met with the general plaudits of the 
oountiy. 

Mr. Tyler now Ijecame a resident at 
Williamsburg, the early residence of 
his father, and passed his time in com- 
parative retirement. In the presiden- 
tial canvass of 1836 he was placed on 
the ticket for Vice President in several 
of the states, receiving forty-seven votes 



in all. His support was derived from 
the Southern State Rights Party in op- 
position to Jackson and Van Buren. 
Two years later, in 1838, we find him 
once more seated in the Virginia House 
of Delegates "acting with the "Whig 
Party, under which name the different 
sections of the opposition to Mr. Van 
Buren's administration gi'adually be- 
came amalgamated in Virginia." This 
connexion introduced him to the Whig 
nominating convention of 1839, which 
sat at Ilarrisburg where he made his 
appearance as a friend of Heniy Clay. 
Upon the vote being taken in favor 
of General Ilairison, Mr. Tyler was 
adopted on tlie ticket as Vice President. 
In the election which ensued he was 
chosen by the same overwhelming vote 
with the President. 

The fourth of March, 1841, saw the 
inauguration of President Hairison at 
Wasliington, and barely one month 
after. Vice President Tyler was himself 
summoned from his home at Williams- 
burg to enter upon the duties of that 
high office. It was the first time death 
had seized an occupant of the presiden- 
tial chair. President Hanison died on 
the fourth of Apnl, at Washington. 
Congress Avas not in session. The offi- 
cers of the cabinet, of Avliom Daniel 
Webster was at the head, took charge 
of the government for the moment, im- 
mediately sending a special messenger 
with an announcement to Vice Presi- 
dent Tyler of the melancholy fact. On 
the morning of the second day, the sixth 
of April, Mr. Tyler an-ived in Washing- 
ton, and the same day, before Judge 
Cranch, of the District of Columbia, 
took the oath, " faithfully to execute the 



144 



JOHN TYLER. 



oflRoe of Pivsidoiit of the United States, 
and to tlie Ix'st of his al>ility, preserve, 
protect and defend the Constitution of 
the United States." He did not think 
it necessary to make this oath after that 
which he had taken on entering ujum 
his duties as Vice President hut as a 
measure of prudence and "for greater 
caution as doubts may arise." On re- 
ceiving the niemhers of the caltinet lie 
expressed his wish that they should 
remain in office. The funeral of the 
late president took place on the seventh 
and was attended liy President Tyler. 

There was no jmlilic ceremonial of 
an inauguration on his takintj the oath 
before Justice Cranch and consequently 
no public address, but two days after 
'the funeral, on the ninth of April, an 
" inaugural address " was issued by the 
President which was read with much 
interest. It was expected to solve the 
question which began to be much agi- 
tated of the degree of confoiiuity of 
the views of the new incumbent to the 
Whig principles of his predecessor. He 
had, as we have seen, been led on vari- 
ous occasions to cooperate with the 
Whig party, but many of his anteced- 
ents were directly hostile to their views. 
His name had been placed on the 
ticket in the Southern interest and as a 
friend of Mr. Clay, without any distinct 
pledges on his part to serve the doc- 
trines of the party. In fact the proba- 
bility of his being placed in the autho- 
ritative position of Pi'csident had not 
been very seriously if at all entertained, 
by the convention which, somewhat 
hastily, put him in nomination. The 
address, ho^\•ever, Avas upon the whole, 
acceptable to the Whigs ; it certainly 



gave little satisfaction to the opposite 
])arty which saw in it a lurking con- 
demnation of the " assumjjtions " of 
President Jackson, and an inclination 
at least, toward a national hank.* 

A few days after this address Presi 
dent Tyler issued "a recommendation" 
to the people of the United States, of a 
day of fasting and prayer, in recognition 
of the solemn bereavement in the death 
of the late president. 

An extra session of Congress had 
been already summoned by President 
Harrison, to meet the last day of ]\Iay. 
It sat from that date till September. 
As its main object was to take into con- 
sideration the financial condition of the 
country, and, if possible, provide ways 
and means for its relief, the question of 
the creation of a new United State. 
Bank became a paramount subject of 
discussion. The President was appa 
rently in favor of such an institution 
In his message he revieAved the previous 
course of legislation in this matter, and 
admitted the last substitute, the sub- 
treasury, to be condemned by the peo^ 
pie. "To you, then," he conchided, 
addressing Congress, " who have come 
more directly from the body of our com- 
mon constituents, I submit the entire 
question, as best qualified to give a full 
exy)osition of their wishes and opinions. 
I shall be ready to concur witli you in 
the adoption of such system as you may 
propose, reserving to myself the ulti- 
mate power of rejecting any measure 
which may, in my view of it, conflict 
with the Constitution, or otherwise 
jeopard the prosperity of the country — 

' Benton's TUirty Year»' View, II., 212. 



JOHN TYLER. 



145 



a power wliicli I could not part with if 
I would, but wliich I will not believe 
any act of yours will call into requisi- 
tion." This sentence foreshadowed the 
result. Two bills were prepared ac- 
cording to plans more or less adapted 
to the views of the Pi'esident, and both, 
when they had been passed after much 
discussion in Congress, were vetoed by 
him. For the plans and devices, the 
learned political doubts and constitu- 
tional arguments on either side we 
must refer the reader to the debates in 
Congress and the messages of President 
Tyler himself On the side of the 
Whigs throughout the countiy there 
sprung up a great disaffection in conse- 
quence, toward the President whom 
they had created. On the other hand, 
the Democratic party thanked their un- 
expected assistant vnth moderated en- 
thusiasm. It was thought to be the 
last effort in Congress to establish a 
National Bank. Other measures of re- 
lief, however, were passed at this extra 
session including the bankrupt act and 
a national loan. 

The defection of President Tyler, as 
it was considered, from the Whig party 
caused the resignation of most of the 
members of his cabinet. Daniel Web- 
ster, however, remained in the office of 
Secretary of State to complete the im- 
portant negotiation with England in 
reference to the disputed North Eastern 
Boundary. This treaty, one of the 
most important acts of President Tyler's 
administration, was negotiated between 
Lord Ashbiu-ton who was sent a special 
minister from England for the purpose, 
and Mr. Webster as Secretary of State 
in 1842. Mr. Webster held his office 

19 



in the cabinet till May of the following 
year. His successor was Mr. Abel P. 
Upshur of Virginia, who perished while 
in office, in February, 1844, by the fatal 
explosion on board the Princeton, on the 
Potomac. Mr. Calhoun was afterwards 
appointed Secretary of State, and in 
1844 negotiated a treaty of annexation 
between the United States and the Re- 
public of Texas, which Avas rejected by 
the Senate. In the following year the 
annexation, which had been recom- 
mended by the President, and became 
a test question with politicians through 
the country, passed both houses. This 
was among the last acts of President 
Tyler's administration. His successor, 
Mr. Polk, had already been chosen, and 
a few months after, on the fourth of 
March, 1845, entered upon the duties 
of his office. Mr. Tyler then retired to 
his seat in Virginia, carrying with him 
to grace his home a lady of New York, 
a daughter of the late Mr. David 
Gardner, whom he had married during 
his Presidency, in 1844. He had been 
previously man'ied in 1813 to a lady 
of Virginia, Miss Letitia Christian, who 
died at Washington, leaving three sons 
and three daughters. One of the sons, 
Mr. Robert Tyler, attracted some at- 
tention in the literary Avorld as the 
author of a poem entitled Ahasuerus. 
After his retirement from the Presi- 
dency Mr. Tyler passed his time in 
honorable leisure, appearing on one or 
two occasions to deliver public ad- 
dresses on anniversary and other meet- 
ings of historical or other general in- 
terest. His first production of this 
kind was an address which should have 
been mentioned in the order of our nar- 



146 



JOHN TYLER. 



rative, doliverod in July, 1820, at the 
oapitol pquare in Richmond, in memory 
of his own and father's friend, the illus- 
trious Jefterson. 

The agitation arising out of the Pre- 
sidential election of 1860 brought Mr. 
Tyler again before the public. When 
the success of the Republican party in 
the election of Mr. Lincoln was followed 
by threats and active measures of dis- 
union on the part of the South, he was 
sent by the legislature of Virginia to 
"Washington, a member of the notable 
Peace Convention of delegates from the 
northern and border States, a measure 
origin.ally proposed in Virginia Mdth 
the view of warding off impending hos- 
tilities between the two portions of the 
country by some adjustment or com- 
promise of the questions in dispute. 
The convention met at Washington on 
the 4th of Febi-uary, 1861, and Mr. 
Tyler was chosen its President. In an 
opening address he declared the object 
of the assembly "to snatch from ruin 
a great and glorious confederation, to 
preserve the government, and to renew 
and invigorate the Constitution." In 
the course of his remarks he observed 
that "our ancestors probably com- 
mitted a blunder in not having fixed 



upon every fifth decade for a call of 
a general convention to amend and 
reform the Constitution." The con- 
vention, in which twenty-one States 
were represented, debated for three 
weeks various propositions, and finally 
detennined upon the recommendation 
of a plan, extending the line of the 
Missouri Compromise to the Pacific, and 
proposing additional securities for the 
"peculiar institution" by limitation of 
the legislation of Congress, and other 
measures. The whole was submitted 
to the consideration of the national 
Congress then in session, and the con- 
vention adjourned. 

Congress was not disposed to accept 
this and the like palliatives of the na- 
tional difliculties which were jiroposed 
in that body. The crisis rapidly ap- 
proached. The acts of secession of the 
Southern States were followed by the 
attack on Sumter. Virginia, no longer 
neutral, cast in her lot with the Con- 
federacy, and Mr. Tyler followed the 
fortunes of his State, and became an 
active Secessionist. He was chosen a 
senator in the Confederate Congress, 
and held this position at the time of 
his death, w^hich occurred suddenly at 
Richmond, January 18, 1862. 




4^> 



>Av <^^ <r^ . 'dCL- '-^ <5^(L 



-^^X^ D(L- 



JAMES KNOX POLK. 



The eleventli President of tlie United 
States was born in Mecklenburg county, 
North Carolina, in the vicinity of the 
county town of Charlotte, November 2, 
1*795. He was of Scoto-L-ish descent, 
the name being said to have been ori- 
ginally Pollock in Scotland. Robert 
Polk, the first American ancestor of 
the family, emigrated from Ireland 
about the middle of the eighteenth 
century. He came to Maryland, and 
was temporarily established, with his 
children, on the eastern shore ; thence 
his sons removed first to the interior of 
Pennsylvania, and aftei-ward to the 
more permanent settlement in North 
Carolina. In this frontier district, in 
the western part of the State, border- 
ing on South Carolina, in the region 
bounded by the parallel streams of the 
Yadkin and the Catawba, the three 
sons of Thomas Polk, Thomas, Ezekiel 
and Charles, found a home, in the 
midst of a sturdy, independent popula- 
tion, who carried the virtues of order, 
sobriety, and secular and religious edu- 
cation to the borders of what was then 
the Indian wilderness. Two of these 
brothers, Thomas and Ezekiel, became 
distinguished in the early annals of the 
Revolution, in those measures of pro- 
test and resistance which placed North 
Carolina in the foremost rank of State 



patriotism. Thomas Polk was put for- 
ward as the leader of these indepen- 
dent mountaineers. He was colonel of 
the militia, and had been a surveyor 
and member of the colonial assembly. 
It was at his call that a convention of 
the citizens of the region, delegates of 
the militia districts, asseml)led at Char- 
lotte on the 19th of May, 1775, to 
deliberate on the ci'isis at hand. While 
they were assembled, it is said, news 
was brought by a post rider of the 
bloody day at Lexington. The meet- 
inof was stimulated to action, and ex- 
pressed its resolve in the famous 
Mecklenburgh Declaration of Indepen- 
dence, which curiously anticipated, in 
its spirit and even a portion of its lan- 
guage, the words of the great national 
instrument from the pen of Jefferson. 
Thomas Polk was a master-spirit in 
these transactions. 

His nephew Samuel, son of Ezekiel, 
was the father of the future President. 
He was a farmer " of unassuming pre- 
tensions, but of enterprising character." 
His wife, who gave her family name to 
her son, was the daughter of James 
Knox, who became captain in the 
military service of the Revolution. 
In 1806, when their son James was 
about eleven years old, the family, 
tempted by the accounts of western 

147 



148 



JAMES KNOX rOLK. 



lands, removed across the mountains 
into the adjoining state of Tennessee, 
and settled on the banks of Duck 
river. In this region, the boyhood of 
the future President was passed in 
the hiu-dy jnu-suits of a farmer's life, 
spent in subduing the land to the pur- 
poses of cultivation. Ilis health, how- 
ever, was not robust, and his father, 
thinking perhaps that less demand ! 
would be made upon his physical 
powers, procured him employment at 
first with a store-keeper. The occupa- 
tion was not to the youth's taste ; he 
was of a reflective tuin, fond of read- 
ing, and his mind had been led to 
study by \vitnessing his father's occu- 
pations as a surveyor. lie desired to 
leave merchandize — his wish was grant- 
ed — and at tlie age of eighteen, he 
applied himself regiUarly to study, at 
first under the care of the Rev. Dr. Hen- 
derson, and afterward at the academy 
of Murfreesborough in the State, in 
charge of Mr. Samuel P. Black, a man of 
valuable classical acquirements. With 
these advantages and diligent applica- 
tion, the pupil in 1815 entered the 
Sophomore Class of the University of 
North Carolina, at Chapel Ilill. 

He distinguished himself in his col- 
lege course by his jmnctual, earnest ap- 
plication and proficiency in his studies. 
He became the foremost scholar both in 
mathematics, for which he had a natu- 
ral liking, and in the classics. He 
graduated in 1818 with the highest 
honors, delivering the Latin salutatory 
oration. He was then twenty-three, 
some two or three years older than the 
great majority of the crowd who are 
Bent out annually as bachelors of ails ; 



but the later preparation was doubt- 
less an advantage to him in the greater 
maturity of his powei-s. Our college 
studies, in fact, would be far better 
pursued by older students, more tho- 
roughly grounded in the introductory 
aj)prenticeship to learning. The work 
of education, if accomjdished at all, is 
in most cases, we are persuaded, to be 
begun over again by the jnipil himself 
after the so called university course is 
ended. Mr. Polk caiTied his duties 
with hun into active life; they were 
always self-imposed, and were with 
him a living reality. 

After taking his degree, though ill 
health pleaded for a relaxation from 
his diligent application to books, we 
find him soon commencing the study 
of the law with Felix Grundy, the 
eminent legal pioneer of the west, then 
established in the fullness of his pro- 
fessional career at Nashville, with the 
additional eclat of successful statesman 
ship at Washington, as a member of 
the committee of Foreign Relations in 
the war administration of Madison. 
Association with such a preceptor, a 
man of vigorous mind, who had achieved 
distinction by the force of his own cha- 
racter, must doubtless have exercised a 
leading influence upon a young man 
who had already given proof of his 
triumjih over ordinarily adverse for- 
tunes. Pursuing his legal studies for 
two years, he was in 1820 admitted to 
the bar, and returned from Nashville 
to pursue the profession in the region 
of his home at Columbia. His success, 
based upon his thorough acquisitions 
and the influence of his family a.ssocia- 
tious, for there were numerous cmi- 



JAMES KNOX POLK. 



149 



grants of his stock to the district, was 
so rajiid that in less than a year he was 
acknowledged as a leading practitioner. 
He had already acquired fame and pro- 
fit at the bar, when, in 1823, he had 
his first introduction to political life, 
or rather, office, as a member from his 
county of Maury in the State legisla- 
ture. A lawyer in the west at that 
time, and the remark may be apj^lied 
more or less to the present day, was of 
necessity something of a politician, and 
we hear of Mr. Polk assisting the tradi- 
tionary tendencies and conduct of his 
family by his earnest advocacy of the 
democratic policy. He was often called 
upon to addi'ess political gatherings, 
and acquitted himself, we are told, 
with credit and favor by a plain use 
of argument, ^vithout X'esort to the 
taudry and meretricious ornaments in 
which poj^ular speakers so often feel 
themselves called upon to indulge. 
The success, in fact, of his life was 
due to quite other qualities — to his 
simple, sincere, straightfoi-ward charac- 
ter, and the confidence those who knew 
him derived fi'om his manners and 
conduct. 

JVfi-. Polk remained two years in the 
Tennessee legislature, in the course of 
which he had the opportunity of ren- 
dering important service to his early 
friend, Andi'ew Jackson, in his elec- 
tion to the senate of the United 
States. Ml". Polk, at this time, was 
married to the daughter of Joel Chil- 
dress, a merchant of Tennessee, a lady 
whose virtues and graces, in public 
and private life, in the prominent 
social theatre at Washington, are grate- 
fully held in esteem by the, nation. In 



1825, Mr. Polk was elected a member 
of congress, took his seat in December, 
and was continued a member of that 
body for fourteen years. No one du- 
ring this period was more completely 
identified with its proceedings. It 
embraced the vigorous period of his 
life, from thirty to forty-four. He ap- 
peared on the floor of the House of 
Representatives, the rejiresentative, in 
all their integrity and severity, of the 
creed of strict construction which had 
grown out of the doctrines of the old 
Republican JeflTersonian party. He was 
opposed to the recharter of the Bank 
of the United States, to a protective 
tariff, to wasteful expenditures in inter- 
nal improvements ; he advocated econo- 
my in the government. In all questions 
arising from the discussions, he was a 
zealous, persistent supporter of his 
party. In 1827, he was placed on the 
committee of foreign aftairs; and du- 
ring the administration of General 
Jackson, as head of the committee of 
ways and means, rendered the Presi- 
dent the most important assistance in 
his vigorously conducted war against 
the United States Bank. His other 
more prominent position in the House 
was as speaker, to which he was elected 
at the ojiening of the session in 1835, 
and again at the session of 1837, with 
the conclusion of which he retired fix)m 
congress, declining a reelection. 

The foui' years, during which he pre- 
sided over the deliberations of the 
House, were marked by strong political 
excitement, and the duties of the office 
had grown, with the increase of con- 
gress, to lie of a more arduous charac- 
ter. Thi'ough all discussions, however, 



150 



JAMES KNOX POLK. 



Mr. Polk pursued his steady, calm, in- 
flexible course, always present, the 
most punctual man in the House, task- 
ing his powers, it seemed to the stranger 
looking on the excited scene, Iteyond 
his strength, educing order out of chaos, 
dividing the knotty questions of debate 
>vith the skill and impartiality of an 
acute mind well practised in parlia- 
mentaiy logic. The importance of the 
position has been more than once 
shown, since Mr. Polk's discharge of 
the office, in the protracted struggles 
at the commencement of new sessions 
of the House in the equal division of 
parties. It must always be regarded 
as a most distinguishing honor for any 
man, and the ability and energy of 
Mr. Polk will be honorably remembered 
in its annals. 

That Ml-. Polk himself held a no less 
high sense of the dignity of his position 
mav be gathered from the laufniaije in 
which he took leave of the House on 
the adjournment of that body in 1839. 
His brief review of his duties presents 
an extraordinar}' picture of duty faith- 
fully pertonued and as honorably ap- 
preciated. " "When I look back to the 
period," was his langiiage, " when I first 
took my seat in this House, and then 
look around me for those who were at 
that time my associates here, I find but 
few, very few, remaining. But five 
members who were here with me four- 
teen years ago, continue to be members 
of this body. My service here has been 
constant and laborious. I can perhaps 
say what 1>ut what few othere, if aii\-, 
can, that I have not failed to attend 
the daily sittings of this House a single 
day since I have been a member of it, 



save on a single occasion, when pro- 
vented for a short time by indisposi- 
tion. In my intercourse with the mem- 
bei*s of this body, when I occupied a 
place upon the floor, though occasion- 
ally engaged in debates upon interest- 
ing public questions and of an exciting 
character, it is a source of unmingled 
gratification to me to recur to the f;\ct, 
that on no occasion was there the 
slightest personal or unpleasant colli- 
sion with any of its members. Main- 
taining, and at all times expressing, my 
own opinions firmly, the same right 
was fully conceded to others. For four 
years past, the station I have occupied, 
and a sense of propriety, in the divided 
and unusually exciting state of public 
opinion and feeling, which has existed 
both in this House and the coimtry,' 
have precluded me from participating 
in your debates. Other duties were 
assigned me. 

" The high office of Speaker, to which 
it has been twice the pleasiu-e of the 
House to elevate me, has been at all 
times one of labor and high responsi- 
bility. It has been made ray duty to 
decide more questions of parliamentary 
law and order, many of them of a com- 
plex and difficidt character, arising 
often in the midst of high excitement, 
in the coiu'se of our proceedings, than 
had been decided, it is believed, by all 
my predecessors, from the foimdation 
of the fjovernment. This House has 
uniformly sustained me, without dis- 
tinction of the political parties of which 
it has been composed. I return them 
my thanks for their constant support 
in the iischarge of the duties I have 
had to perform. ... I trust this 



JAMES KNOX POLK. 



151 



high office may in future times he 
filled, as doubtless it will be, by abler 
men. It cannot, I know, be filled by 
any one who will devote himself with 
more zeal and untiring industry to do 
his whole duty, than I have done." 

Mr. Polk had hardly reached his 
home in Tennessee after his retirement 
from Congress, when he engaged in a 
diligent canvassing of the State as a can- 
didate for governor at the approaching 
election. He was untiring in his devo- 
tion to his object, and so successful was 
his energy, that he gained the election 
over his opponent, the incumbent of the 
oflice. His inaugui-al addi-ess, deli- 
vered at Nash\alle in October, 1839, a 
remarkably clear and well-wiitten com- 
position, reviewed the leading distinc- 
tive principles of his party — the strict 
inteq)retation of the Constitution, in 
reference to express and imjilied pow- 
ers ; the unconstitutionality and dangers 
of a national bank ; the evil of a surplus 
Federal revenue; the inviolability of 
slavery by Congress in the slave-hold- 
ing States, and other well known posi- 
tions. In his own State he encouraged 
and assisted a " well regulated system 
of internal improvement." His admi- 
nistration was generally well received ; 
but when the time came for reelection, 
he shared the fortunes of his party and 
suffered a defeat. It was the moment 
of the popular whig triumph of Gene- 
ral Harrison ; two years later his rival. 
Governor James C. Jones, was again 
successful in the contest. 

The next turn of the political wheel 
canied ex-Governor Polk to the Presi- 
dency. A decided letter, written by 
him in favor of the annexation of Texas, 



brought him favorably before the Bal- 
timore Convention of May, 1844, when 
that nominating body had exhausted 
the roll of prior candidates. On the 
ninth ballot, after Van Bui-en, Cass and 
others had been set aside, he received 
the requisite two-thirds vote and be- 
came the candidate of the party. In 
accepting the nomination, he avowed 
his intention, in the event of his elec- 
tion, not to be a candidate for a second 
term. The contest between the two 
tickets, Polk and Dallas, Clay and 
Frelinghuysen, resulted in the electoral 
college in a majority for the former 
ticket of sixty-five. Fifteen States voted 
for Polk ; eleven, and among them Ten- 
nessee, by a small majority, for Clay. 
The successful candidate was duly in- 
augurated at Washington in March, 
1845. 

The leading measures, or rather the 
chief events, of Polk's administration of 
the Presidency were the adjustment of 
the Oregon question with England, and 
the "War with Mexico. In the former 
he took ground in his inaugural and 
annual message, in accordance Avith the 
resolutions of the Baltimore nominatinff 
convention, in favor of the claim to 
the whole of the territory, a position 
which, while maintaining his view of 
the matter, he in a measure yielded to 
the will of the Senate in their accept- 
ance of the terms of the British govern- 
ment. The treaty was signed in June, 
1846. A month before this, Congress 
officially recognized, by its declaration, 
the existence of war with Mexico. Of 
the events of that war, of which Presi- 
dent Polk must be considered the in- 
fluential agent, it is not necessary here 



152 



JAMES KXOX POLK. 



to speak in detail. Its progress was, 
upon the wliole, so honorable to the 
arms of the country, as victory after 
victory was chronicled in the move- 
ments of the gi'cat campaigns of Taylor 
and Scott, and the conduct of the war, 
at its termination, was so moderate in 
imposing the conditions of peace at an 
early moment, that much of the oppo- 
sition to its commencement was haj^pily 
neutralized. The immediate settlement 
of California, and its brilliant progress 
in civilization, under the stimulus of the 
gold discovery, have also thrown a halo 
over the war. Its ulterior eftects are 
yet to be read in history ; but, what- 
ever be the result, the date of the acqui- 
sition of so wide a region of territoiy 
bordering upon the great ocean of the 
West, and so rounding the world to the 
fal)led regions of the East, and its influ- 
ence upon the welfare of countless 
numbers of the human race, will always 
mark the period of the administration 
of President Polk. Of the unexpected 
results of the war, probably the least 
looked for was the development of one 
of its least known officers at the outset, 
into his successor in the presidential 
chair. President Polk, having accom- 
panied General Taylor to the inaugural 
ceremonies at the capitol on the fifth 
of March, 1840, retired to his home at 
Nash\nlle, taking Charleston and New 
Orleans by the way. He made the 
journey in safety, though an attack of 
dian-hsra, in his ascent of the Missis- 
sippi, and the inevitable fatigue of tra- 
vel, probably somewhat enfeebled his 



powers. He reached home to occupy 
the mansion and grounds in the heart 
of the city, formerly occupied by Sena- 
tor Grundy, of which he had become 
the purchaser ; but he was not destined 
to enjoy them long. An attack of the 
chronic diarrha?a to which he was sub- 
ject proved unmanageable by liis phy- 
sicians, and after a few days' illness his 
powers of life were exhausted. Ilis 
death took place on the fifteenth of 
June, 1849, in his fifty-fourth year, little 
more than three months after his retire- 
ment from the Presidency. 

In person Mr. Polk was spare, of 
the middle height, -with a bright, 
expressive eye, and ample, angular 
forehead. Of his personal character 
we may cite the words of his biog- 
raj)her : " lie was simple and plain in 
all his habits. His private life was 
upright and blameless. Honesty and 
integrity characterized his intercom'se 
with his fellow men ; fidelity and aftec- 
tion his relations to his family. In his 
friendships he was frank and sincere; 
and courteous and afi'able in his dispo 
sition. He was generous and benevo- 
lent ; but his charities, like his charac- 

! ter, were unostentatious. He was pious, 
too, sincerely ; his wife was a member 
of the Presbyterian church, but he 
never united ^vith &n\ denomination, 

j though on his dpng bed he received 
the rite of baptism at the hands of a 
Methodist clergyman, an old neighbor 
and friend." * 

* The life of James Knox Polk, by John S. Jcuklna 




Z^:?:x«?:v£^:^>^>-^:>0^^^^^ 



ZACHARY TAYLOR. 



Of the modern heroes of America 
few stand out so simply and distinctly, 
80 " clear in their great office," as Gene- 
ral Zachary Taylor. His character was 
of remarkable purity, distinguished by 
equal worth and modesty. When he 
suddenly became celebrated in the 
Mexican war, it was found that, though 
unknown to fame, he had deserved re- 
putation by his gallant conduct in 
1812, and subsequently in Florida. lie 
was known and respected in the army ; 
but there had been no blazon of his 
deeds in the newspapers. He was con- 
tent with the performance of his duty. 
This was a motto and reward all suffi- 
cient to his mind. The type of cha- 
racter which distinguishes him is that 
of the elder worthies of the Revolution, 
the Schuylers, Moultries and Pinck- 
neys. 

Zachary Taylor was born in Orange 
county, Virginia, November 24, 1784, 
of a family, English in its origin, which 
had long been settled in the colony. 
His father, a man of a brave, adventur- 
ous turn, familiarly known among his 
brother pioneers as Captain Dick Tay- 
lor, emigrated when the child was not 
a year old, to the western part of the 
State, what was then known as " the 
dark and bloody ground" of Indian 
strife — the present Kentucky. There 
20 



the boy had his training in the rude, 
hearty, independent pursuits of frontier 
life. We hear something of his school- 
master, the approved migratoiy New 
England pedagogue, who, when his 
pupil became celebrated, remembered 
him as "a very active and sensible 
boy." Of his good sense we have no 
doubt, for it was a quality which 
marked him through life ; while, of his 
activity, there is a story related of his 
yoimger days, of his swimming across 
the Ohio, from the Kentucky to the 
Indiana shore, stemming a freezing 
flood in March. 

His entry in the army dates ft-om 
that memorable period of the attack 
of the Shannon upon the Chesapeake, 
the fountain of many woes and glories 
in the national annals. His father, who 
was something of a politician, procured 
him the appointment from Jefferson's 
administration in 1808 of lieutenant in 
the Seventh United States infantry. 
He thus commenced his career in the 
regular service. Two years later the 
young man is married to Miss Margaret 
Smith of Maiyland. Immediately upon 
the declaration of war AAath England in 
1812, we find him engaged under Gen- 
eral Harrison in the protection of the 
northwestern territory against the at- 
tacks of the Indians. His defence, in 

153 



154 



ZACHARY TAYLOR. 



that year, of Fort Harrison, on the 
AVabash, in the territory' of Indiana, 
against an attack of the Mianiis, is 
one of the memorable incidents of tlie 
war. This fort, built by the general 
•whose name it bears, was situated on 
the upper part of the river, above the 
preseTit town of Tcn-e Ilaxite. It was 
defended by pickets on three sides, 
%vith a row of ban-acks and a block- 
house at either end on the fourth. 
Captain Taylor was left in charge of 
the work with a small company of 
men, in the words of his dis]>atch to 
General Harrison, "not more than ten 
or fifteen able to do a great deal, the 
others being cither sick or convales- 
cent." He had warning of the threat- 
ened approach of a party of the Pro- 
])het's men — the attack belonging to 
that series of movements instigated by 
Tecumseh and his brother — and though 
for some time he had not considered 
the post tenable against a lai'ge force, 
he ])rc])ared to defend it to the best of 
his al)ility. On the third of Sei)tember, 
two young men, making hay in the 
neighl>orhood of the fort, were picked 
off by the Indians, and the next night 
they came in numbers to the assault. 
They l)egan by firing one of the 
block-houses, which endangered the 
whole line of barracks. Captain Tay- 
lor, almost disabled from a severe 
fever, rallied his little force of invalids 
to extinguish it, but the fire having 
communicated to a stock of whisky in 
the l)uilding, soon ascended to the roof, 
and his efforts had to be directed to 
the adjoining houses. The situation 
was desperate. In his own simple 
words, " Sir, what from the rasjing of 



the fire, the yelling and howling of 
several hundred Indians, the cries of 
nine women and children, part sol- 
diers' and part citizens' wives, who had 
taken refuge in the fort, and the de- 
sponding of so many men, which was 
worse than all, I can assure you that 
my feelings were unpleasant." But, by 
his own energy, and the assistance of 
Surgeon Clark, the only one to aid him 
in the command, the roof was stripped 
from the next buildinir and water from 
the well applied to the exposed por- 
tions. The line was saved, and the 
open space of the fire defended by a 
temporary breastwork. All this was 
done under the enemy's fire of bullets 
and arrows, lasting for seven hours, the 
flames lighting up the men at work as 
marks for the hostile missiles. When 
daylight came the fire was returned 
with effect, and the Indians took their 
departure, slaughtering the horses in 
the vicinity, and di'iving off a large 
stock of cattle ; what with this and the 
stores lost in the conflagration, leaving 
the garrison to a diet of green com. 
For this spirited defence. President 
Madison conferred upon Taylor the 
brevet rank of major. 

On the reorganization of the army 
after the peace, it was proposed to de- 
prive him of this rank, which he re- 
sented, and would have retired to an 
agricultural life had not the govern- 
ment, by yielding, retained him in the 
army. lie was employed in the Indian 
service in various ways, and in the 
Black Hawk war of 1832 appears in 
the field, taking an active part as colo- 
nel in the concluding battle of the Bad 
Axe river. His next scene of opera- 



ZACHARY TAYLOR. 



155 



tions was the Florida war, a field of 
greater difficulty tlian glory. He was 
ordered to this service in 1836, and in 
Decemlier of the following year led an , 
expedition of about a thousand men, a 
few volunteers and the rest regulars, 
from Fort Gardiner toward Lake Oke- 
chol)ee, in the immediate neighborhood 
of which the enemy, some seven hun- 
dred strong, were encamped in a ham- 
mock. As the place was approached, 
it was found to be protected in front 
by a swamp three quarters of a mile in 
breadth. It was " totally impassable 
for horses, and nearly so for foot, cov- 
ered with a thick growth of saw-grass 
five feet high, and about knee deep in 
mud and water." This was to be 
crossed to get within range of the foe, 
who fought from behind trees with 
every advantage of position. In the 
an-angement of the attack, the volun- 
teers were sent forward with directions 
to fall back, if necessary, while the 
regulars would sustain them. They 
advanced, were fired upon, their com- 
mander Colonel Gentry of Missouri 
slain, when they retreated. The regu- 
lars then made their way through the 
high, stiif grass, suffering heavy losses ; 
the place of the fallen was succeeded 
by others, and the enemy finally di-iven 
to the lake in confusion. The action 
lasted from half past twelve till three 
P.M. It was one of the important vic- 
tories of the war, it being exceedingly 
difficult to get the Indians to stand in 
battle in any numbers. Here nothing 
but the most tried valor could prevail 
against them. Colonel Taylor's loss 
was very heavy, both in officers, as was 
usual in this war, and in men. In his 



dispatch, he stops to express his feeling 
for the wounded. " Here," says he, " I 
trust I may be permitted to say that I 
experienced one of the most trying 
scenes of my life, and he who could 
have looked on it with indifference, his 
nerves must have been differently or- 
ganized from my own." 

His management of this affair and 
general efficiency in the campaign were 
rewarded with the brevet rank of bri- 
gadier-general, and shortly after with 
the chief command in the State, which 
he held till the arrival of General 
Macomb. General Taylor's plan was to 
divide the whole region into a series of 
military districts, each presided over by 
a fort or stockade, whence the troops 
might take the aggressive on occasion. 
He was employed in Florida two years 
later till 1840, when he was assigned to 
the command of the southwestern divi- 
sion of the army, and had his head 
quarters at Fort Jesup, Louisiana. This 
brought him within the line of employ- 
ment in Texas, when, on the annexation 
of that country to the United States, it 
became necessary to j^rotect her west- 
ern fi'ontier from Mexican invasion. 
He was consequently ordered to the 
district in June, 1845, and immediately 
established his headquarters at Corpus 
Christi, on the west bank of the Nueces, 
at its mouth. There the " army of ob- 
servation" gradually augmented, vrith 
the progress of war alarms, to a force 
of nearly four thousand men, the " army 
of occupation," remained many months, 
till March of the following year, when 
its commander received directions to 
advance to the ultimate boundary, the 
llio Grande. The march of seventeeu 



156 



ZACHARY TAYLOR. 



days was made across the interveninjT 
desert, meetiiii^ witli no (tpposition of 
consetjuenoe uj) tt> the time of arrival at 
the j)i)iiit of the river oj)posite Mata- 
moras, on the twenty-eightli of the 
month. A flag-staff was immediately 
erected on the spot, and the American 
ensign raised, as the ])ands played the 
national airs "Yankee Doodle" and 
"The Star-spangled Banner." This vi- 
cinity was destined to be the scene of 
several formidable conflicts. We shall 
not trench upon the province of history 
to pursue the movements here with any 
great minuteness ; but shall touch light- 
ly upon the main incidents of the cam- 
l)aign, which leads us over the l)attle- 
fields of Palo Alto, Resaca de la Palma, 
to the storming of ]\Ionterey and the 
great struggle at Ruena Vista. 

The ])lace at which tlie army first 
rested was within sight of the enemy's 
headquarters at Matamoras, separated 
only by tlie intervenins: river. There 
having taken his station, and, as he told 
the ]Me.\ican authorities, in accordance 
with the instructions of his government, 
being determined to remain, the first 
em])loyment of General Taylor, of 
course, was to provide some adequate 
defences — the more as he was in tace 
of a considerable body of the foe, to 
whom large reinforcements, commanded 
by e.vperienced generals, were already 
on tlie way, and war was no longer a 
matter of uncertainty. A camp was 
established, and the extensive work, 
Fort Bi-own, on the bank of the river, 
commanding the opi)osite to\\-n, com- 
menced. Point Isabel, a day's march 
distant in the rear, on the coast, the 
fu-st harbor to the north of tlie llio 



Grande, was the depot for supplies 
General Taylor in his advance had 
taken possession of this j)lace, and left 
a small gamson for its protection. On 
the twelftli of April, General Ampudia, 
having arrived at INIatamoras with rein- 
forcements, and taken the command, 
addressed a communication to General 
Taylor, requiring liim within tAventy- 
four hours to retire to the Nueces while 
the Texas question was under discus- 
sion between the two governments, or 
accept the alternative of a resort to 
arms. To this the American com- 
mander re])lied, that he had been or- 
dennl to occupy the country to the left 
bank of the llio Grande till the boun- 
dary should be definitely settled ; that 
in discharging this duty, he had care- 
fully abstained from all acts of hostility, 
and that the instructions under which 
he was acting would not permit him to 
retrograde from the position he occu- 
pied ; and as for war, while he regretted 
the alternative, he should not avoid it, 
but " leave the responsibility with those 
who rashly commence hostilities." 

After this the military proceedings 
thickened apace. The right bank of the 
I'iver, abc)ve and below the camp, 
swarmed with the irregular troops of 
the enemy. Colonel Trueraan Cross, as- 
sistant quartermaster-general, ali-eady, 
on the tenth, had been murdered, as he 
was taking his usual ride in the neigh- 
borhood of the camp. On the twenty- 
fourth a communication came from Gen- 
eral Avista, who had succeeded Ampudia 
in the command, conveying a further 
declaration of hostilities; and simulta- 
neously word reached the camp of the 
crossing uf the enemy in considerable 



ZACHARY TAYLOR. 



157 



numbers. Captain Tliomton, sent above 
to reconnoitre, was surprised in a plan- 
tation inclosure, and his little force cap- 
tured. Below, Point Isabel was in dan- 
ger of being cut off, an obvious move- 
ment of the enemy, which required all 
the vigilance of General Taylor to coun- 
teract. Leaving, accordingly, a sufficient 
garrison for the defence of Fort Brown, 
he set out, on the first of May, with the 
main body of his troops, for the relief 
of that important station. He arrived 
at the place without interruption, ac- 
complished his purpose in adding to its 
strength, and, on the seventh, invited 
by the signal guns of Fort Brown, 
which was sufferinor a bomljardment, 
began his return, with about twenty- 
two hundred men, brin!?in2: Avith him 
two eighteen-pounders, in addition to 
the artillery he had taken with him, 
and a large train of wagons. About 
noon on the following day, the Mexican 
troops were reported in front, and were 
Boon found occupying the road, on an 
open prairie skirted by a growth of 
chaparral. 

This was the field of Palo Alto, 
so named from the thickets rising 
above the general level. The Mexi- 
cans, six thousand in number, com- 
manded by General Arista, were drawn 
up in a single line, " artillery, infantiy 
and cavalry placed alternately, forming 
a living wall more than a mile in ex- 
tent, of physical strength, of steel and 
latent fire."^ The American force was 
disposed by General Taylor with less 
regularity, but mostly in a parallel out- 
line. The right wing, comprising the 

' Thorpe's " Our Army on the Kio Grande," p. 74. 



larger part of the force, including Ring- 
gold's artillery and the eighteen-pound- 
ers, was under the orders of Colonel 
Twiggs; the left was commanded by 
Lieutenant-Colonel Belknap. The train 
was protected by a squadron of dra- 
goons in the rear. Having made these 
arrangements, General Taylor coolly 
directed the men to stack their arms, 
mai'ch in comj^anies, and suj^ply them- 
selves with the fresh water of the ad- 
joining ponds in place of the brackish 
water mth which they had been fur- 
nished at Point Isabel The columns 
then advanced, when the engagement 
was commenced, shortly after two in 
the afternoon, by the Mexican batte- 
ries. This fire was promptly met by 
the whole American artilleiy, the eight- 
een-pounders, di-awn up in the road, 
and Ringgold's pieces doing eminent 
execution. An important movement 
of the enemy's cavaliy, fifteen hundred 
strong, led by General Ton-ejon, on the 
right, threatening the flank, was de- 
feated by the fifth infantry, the flying 
artillery and Captain Walker's Texan 
volunteers. While this was proceeding, 
the diy grass of the prairie took fire 
and swept a volume of smoke over the 
field, partially concealing the armies 
from one another. Under cover of this 
obscuration, the line of the enemy, 
which had suffered fi-om the artillery, 
was reformed in the rear of its first 
position, and the American correspond- 
ingly advanced. After a pause of 
about an hour, the fire was reopened, 
the action being confined chiefly to the 
artilleiy on both sides. The superi- 
ority of the American fire was un- 
doubted ; but it was dearly purchased, 



153 



ZACIIARY TAYLOR. 



by tlie loss of the gallant ]\rajor Ring- 
gold, whose name is iilentiJied with this 
effective arm of the service. The day 
closed with a brilliant attack from the 
enemy's right, which was met with 
great sj)irit by Cajitain Duncan's ai'til- 
lery In the darkness of the evening 
the enemy retired to a new position, 
and the Avearied Americans slept on 
their battle-field, their general spreading 
his blanket on the grass in the midst of 
the troops. The loss of the Mexicans 
was much heavier than that of om* own 
forces; the commander of the former 
reporting two hundred and fifty-two 
killed, wounded and missing, while 
General Taylor's dispatch numbers only 
seven killed, including three officers, 
and thii-ty-nine wounded — an a])parent- 
ly small number of either army, consi- 
dering the strength on both sides of 
the artillery and the skill with which 
it was served on a level plain. 

The next day brought the battle of 
Resaca de la Pidma. Early in the 
morning the enemy had retired toward 
Matamoras, to a strong position at a 
ravine, crossed by the road and sur- 
rounded by a thick growth of chaparral. 
The a]>])roach on the highway was de- 
fended bj' a strongly posted force of ar- 
tilleiy. Thither the foe were pursued by 
General Taylor, who, spite of the supe- 
rioiity of numbers confronting him, ex- 
pressed his determination to be at Fort 
Brown before night. Having provided 
for the safety of the supply-train, he 
commenced the attack alwut three in 
the afternoon, by advancing a large 
body of skii-mishers and the battery 
of Lieutenant Ridgely. The latter took 
up a position on the road. Owing to 



the nature of the ground, the engage 
ment which ensued was of an eniirely 
ditlei-ent character from that of the 
preceding day. The enemy were shel- 
tered by the ravine on both its sides. 
The gro\vth in front, beside the pro- 
tection of the rising ground, impeded 
the free play of the American artil- 
lery. As the enemy's cannon com- 
manded the only accessible a])proach 
by the road, it became evident to Gen- 
eral Taylor, after sending forward his 
infantry, that however the latter might 
discharge their duty — and they did 
make, in his own language, " resistless 
progress" — nothing decisive could be 
accomplished till that fire was silenced. 
He consequently sent to the rear for 
the gallant Captain May and his dra- 
goons, and committed to them the work.' 
"You must chartre the enemies' batte- 
ries, and take them," was the general's 
language. " I will do it," was May's 
response. And, ardent as the onset of 
the six hundred at Balaclava, " into the 
jaws of death," but not so purposeless, 
sped the brave captain and his troop. 
Waiting a few moments for Ridgely at 
his battery, three hundred yards dis- 
tant, to draw the fire of the enemy's 
artillery, he galloped fui'iously over the 
road, followed by his company, to re- 
ceive the fire of the inner battery, which 
levelled at one discharsire eitrhteen hoi-ses 
and seven men of his troop, Lieutenant 
Inge, one of the number, at his side. 
But the battery was swept of its de- 
fenders ; and though May, unsupported 
by infantry, exposed as he was to a 
shower of grape and musketry, was 
compelled to retire, he fought his way 
out of the mass of the foe, liringing 



ZACHARY TAYLOR. 



159 



with him to the camp an eminent 
prisoner of war, General La Vega, a 
brave officer, whom he had found the 
last at the guns, rallying his flying sol- 
diers to their duty. Infantry were 
meanwhile ordered up, and the advant- 
age of the charge secured in di-iving the 
enemy from their artillery on the left. 
On the right a breastwork was stormed, 
its gun taken, and other successes achiev- 
ed, completing the rout in this quarter, 
including the capture of the general's 
camp, with all his official correspond- 
ence. The artillery battalion left to 
guard the train, with other forces, were 
now ordered in pursuit, and the flying 
army was di-iven to the river, where 
many perished in the attempt to escape. 
" In the camp of the army," says an in- 
teresting narrator of these scenes, " were 
found the preparations for a great festi- 
val, no doubt to follow the expected 
victory. The camp-kettles were sim- 
mering over the fires, filled Avith savory 
viands, oft' of which our troops made a 
plentiful evening meal. In the road 
were carcasses of half-skinned oxen. 
The hangers-on of the camp, while the 
battle was raging, were busy in theu- 
feast-preparing worlc, unconscious of 
dangers, when, on an instant, a sudden 
panic must have seized them, and they 
fled, leaving their half-comj^leted la- 
bors to be consummated by our own 
troops." ^ 

Seventeen hundred was the number 
of General Taylor's force engaged Avith 
the Mexicans. His loss was three offi- 
cers, Lieutenants Inge, Cochrane and 
Chadbourne, and thii-tj'-six men killed ; 

' Thorpe's "Our Army on the Ric Grande," p. 104. 



twelve officers and seventy men wound- 
ed. General Taylor, in his dispatch, 
estimated the Mexican loss, killed, 
wounded and missing, duilng the two 
days, at not less than one thousand 
men. In a dispatch from the field that 
night, he wrote with characteristic sim- 
plicity : " The aftair of to-day may be 
regarded as a projjer sujiplemeut to the 
cannonade of yesterday ; and the two 
taken together exhibit the coolness and 
gallantry of our officers and men in the 
most favorable light. All have done 
their duty, and done it nobly." A few 
days, in a fuller report, he added: 
" Our victory has been decisive. A 
small force has overcome immense odds 
of the best troops that Mexico can 
furnish — ^veteran regiments, perfectly 
equipped and apjiointed. Eight pieces 
of artillery, several colors and stand- 
ards, a great number of prisoners, in- 
cluding fourteen officers, and a large 
amount of baggage and j^ublic property, 
have fallen into our hands." 

This decided success established the 
fortunes of General Taylor's Mexican 
campaign. Everj^thing had been put 
to the hazard, and everything gained. 
The force which he commanded, large 
enough for resistance, too small, appar 
rently, for conquest, invited the attack 
of the superior hosts. Victory ap- 
peared an easy matter to the Mexican 
general, who had the choice of the 
ground, and who was enabled to divide 
the little Ameiican army between the 
field and the fort. His supplies were 
at hand in a considerable city with a 
chain of towns in its rear, reaching into 
the heart of the country. He had made 
every calculation for success. While he 



160 



ZACHARY TAYLOR. 



was attacking the ATnorioans on their 
marcli l\v a woll-plannod military move- 
ment, the l)atteries of Matamoras were 
at work on Fort Bro^vn. One thing 
only was wanting to his forces, the des- 
perate courage tor an assault. If this 
nerve of the bayonet had l)een supplied, 
Arista might, -with his numbers and 
resources, have done with ease what 
Jackson and his defenders at New Or- 
leans so bravely accomplished, and 
swept his enemies into the sea. But 
he had other stuff in his ranks. 

K the Mexicans at the outset were 
natui-ally confident of success, the Ame- 
ricans at home trembled for the fate of 
General Taylor's expedition, and the 
moral effect of his Nnctorj'-, in the same 
proportion, disheartened the one and 
elevated the other. The brave troops 
on the llio Grande, it was felt, had re- 
paired the over confidence of the ad- 
noiuistratiou at AVashington. General 
Taylor had achieved not only a military 
success, l)ut he had rescued the countiy 
from the risk of disgrace. Nothing 
Dould have been better contrived than 
the unintentional conduct of the go- 
vernment, for the creation of a hero. 
The American general was placed in a 
position where the greatest glory was 
to be reached -s^th the smallest com- 
mand. 

The Me.xican army was completely 
disorganized at Matamoras. Their can- 
nonading of Fort Brown had ceased 
■with the defeat of their army, and little 
was to be thought of but surrender. 
General Taylor was soon on hand to 
hasten the movement. After the duty 
to the dead and wounded had been 
performed, he proceeded to Point Isa- 



bel to confer with Commodore Conner, 
who had brought up his fleet to the 
assistance of the imperilled little army. 
The stoiy is, that the etiquette of this 
meeting severely ta.\ed the resources of 
the brave general's wardrobe. Long 
accustomed to frontier warfare and pro- 
tracted Indian campaigns, where there 
was more rough labor to be performed 
than military pomp to be indulged. Old 
Zach, as he was afiectionately and fami- 
liarly called, had adapted his dress to 
the exigency of the climate and service. 
His linen roundabout was far better 
known in the camp than his unifoiTn. 
Thinking, however, that something was 
due from the commander-in-chief of the 
army to the head of the navy, who was 
understood to be punctilious in dress, 
he painfully arrayed himself in the re- 
gulation coat, fished from the dej)ths of 
his chest; while the gallant commodore, 
knowing the habits of the general, in 
an equally generous spirit of concession, 
clothed himself for the interview in a 
simple suit of drilling. After this, it 
is said. Old Zach returned more sedu- 
lously than ever to his wonted simpli- 
city of attire. All his habits, indeed, 
partook of the same plain convenience. 
Hardy and unostentatious in his mode 
of living, he was accustomed to the 
rough fare of the camp and an impre- 
tending tent sufficed for the dignity of 
his headquarters. 

The proper arrangements having been 
made at Point Isabel, General Taylor 
hastened again to the camp over a road 
no longer intemipted by Ai-ista and his 
host. Ilis next movement was to take 
possession of Matamoras, peaceably if 
he could, forcibly if he must. Upon 



ZACHARY TAYLOR. 



161 



his making his preparations for the 
Litter, the discreet course appeared 
preferable to the Mexicans, and the 
town was given up, on the eighteenth 
of the month, to the army of occupa- 
tion. Ai'ista had fled, with such of his 
troops as were in a condition to travel, 
leaving the place to the hostilities of 
the Americans, which proved much 
kinder than the tender mercies of the 
defenders. 

The summer was passed by General 
Taylor at Matamoras, receiving the 
recruits, who, summoned by the first 
signal of danger, were now pouring to 
the Rio Grande. The means of ad- 
vance had also to be collected, and the 
force organized to pursue the enemy in 
the interior. Monterey to the west, at 
the foot of the Sierra Madre, where 
General Ampudia, who had succeeded 
Arista in the command, had established 
himself with a considerable body of 
troops, was the fii'st object of attack. 
Sending forward his forces by the Rio 
Grande to Camargo, General Taylor 
thence pursued his way aci-oss the 
desert, reaching the San Juan, in the 
immediate neighborhood of Monterey, 
on the nineteenth of September. From 
that moment the brave and toilsome 
operations of the attack, which was con- 
tinued for five days, may be said to have 
commenced. The town, thoroughly ca- 
pable of defence, was manned by a gar- 
rison of ten thousand men, more than 
two-thirds of whom were regular troops, 
•with, a defence of forty-two pieces of 
cannon ; its outworks were important, 
and the most extensive preparations of 
barricades and batteries were made 
within. The entire force General Tay- 

21 



lor brought against it, numbered six 
thousand, six hundred and seventy-five. 
He had no siege train, which might be 
thought indispensable to the work he 
was about to undertake, and an artillery 
force of only one ten-inch mortar, two 
twenty-four pounder howitzers, and 
foui" light field batteries of four guns 
each. 

The first observation of the town 
convinced General Taylor that it 
might be turned on its westerly side, 
where the only means of escape to its 
occupants lay in the road to Saltillo. 
There were important detached works 
on that side, but the main defences 
were in the citadel on the north, the 
river and a series of redoubts on the 
southerly and easterly approaches. The 
reconnaisance was made after General 
Taylor's arrival on the nineteenth ; on 
the twentieth. General Worth moved 
with his command toward the Saltillo 
road to cany out the plan of the com- 
mander-in-chief. The latter himself 
directed the proceedings on the east. 
The main points, and they were highly 
important ones, accomplished by Gene- 
ral Worth on that day of hard fighting, 
the twenty-first, were the occupation 
of the road, and the storming of the 
works at the heights, adjacent to the 
city on the west. Turning to General 
Taylor's special command, we find him 
at the same time directing an attack 
on the opposite side of the town, which 
was conducted with such gallantry, in 
the face of a murderous cross-fire from 
the forts, that the streets of the city 
were gained, and the roof of one of its 
buildings taken advantage of to assaU 
with musketry the defenders of the 



162 



ZACHART TAYLOR. 



fort comninnding this approach, which 
was also attackotl from the outer side. | 
Under this coiiilnnation the fort fell. 
It was the important success of the 
.lay. 

In General Taylor's words, "the 
main ohject proposed in the morning 
had been effected. A powerful diver- 
sion had been made to favor the opera- 
tions of the second division (General 
Worth's) ; one of the enemy's advanced 
works had been carried, and Ave now 
had a strong foothold in the town." 
The loss in achieving this result, may 
indicate the gallantry with which it 
was accomplished. The number killed 
and wounded, in these operations in 
the lower part of the city that day, was 
three hundred and ninety-four. The 
next, the twenty-second, saw the com- 
pletion of General Worth's design in 
the capture of the Bishop's Palace on 
Independence Hill, that work being 
commanded by the position he had 
stonued the day before. General Tay- 
lor employed the day in relieving his 
troops who had passed the night on 
the lower side of the town, and main- 
taining his advantages in that quarter. 
It was now evident that the city, being 
commanded from either end, must in 
due time surrender. The military event 
of the twenty-thii'd, the third great 
day of the siege, was the advance into 
the town of the volunteers under Gen- 
erals Quitman and Henderson, sup- ' 
ported by Captain Bragg's battery. 
From house to house, from square to 
square, the advance against the strong 
barriers was gained by musketiy from 
the roofs, by grape-shot in the streets, 
to a position but a single square dis- 



tant from the principal plaz.n, whero 
the enemy's force was mainly concen- 
trated. 

A similar advance was made into 
the city from the opposite side by 
General Worth. The work of the next 
day, had it been neces.sary to continue 
the assault, would have been a last, 
short, bloody, decisive struggle. For- 
tunately, it Avas spared by a cajiitula- 
tion. The outcries of the townspeople, 
no less than the necessities of the gar- 
rison, compelled the sim-ender. On 
the morning of the twenty-fourth, a 
comnmnication was received by Gene- 
ral Taylor from General Amj)U(lia, 
stating that having made the defence 
of which he thought the city suscej)ti- 
ble, he had " fulfilled his duty, and 
satisfied that military honor which, in ' 
a certain manner, is common to all 
armies of the civilized world." To 
continiie the defence, he said, would 
only be further to distress the pop- 
ulation which had suffered enough 
already: he, therefore, proposed to 
evacuate the city and fort, carrying 
with him the 2^ersonnel and mater/el of 
war. In answer to this, a com})lete 
surrender of the town and garrison as 
prisoners of war was demanded ; but 
such surrender, it was added, Avould be 
upon terms recognizing by their libe- 
rality " the gallant defence of the place, 
creditable alike to the Mexican troops 
and nation." The hour of twelve was 
appointed to determine the qiiestion. 
At that time the two chiefs met to 
arranire the temis of surrender. Gen- 
eral Ampudia, not satisfied with the 
proposition offered, insisted upon his 
original conditions; and General Tay- 



ZACHARY TAYLOR. 



163 



lor, who had made up his mind, was in 
consequence on the point of breaking 
up the conference, when a suggestion 
was offered and reluctantly accepted 
by him, to refer the negotiation to a 
body of commissioners on both sides. 
General Worth, General Henderson, 
and Colonel Jefferson Davis acted for 
the Americans. With some difficulty 
the terms were arranged. The town 
and citadel, with the arms and muni- 
tions of war were surrendered, the 
Mexican forces to retire — the officers 
with their side arms, the cavalry with 
their arms and accoutrements, the artil- 
lery with one field battery — within 
seven days beyond the line formed l)y 
the pass of Linconada, the city of 
Linares and San Fernando de Preras; 
and an armistice of eight weeks to be 
entered upon. The Mexican flag, when 
struck at the citadel, was to be saluted 
by its own battery. That ceremony 
was performed on the morning of the 
twenty-fifth. The American flag was 
unfolded, and the Mexican troops took 
their departure. It was a brilliant suc- 
cess in the taking of a town. Its cost, 
as summed up hy General Taylor in 
his disjjatch, was twelve officers and 
one hundred and eight men killed; 
thirty-one officers and three hundred 
and thirty-seven men wounded. 

It was thought by the government 
at Washington tliat too favorable terms 
had been allowed the enemy in the 
capitulation, that their surrender should 
have been unconditional, and that the 
armistice should not have been granted. 
But those who made the negotiation 
were governed by sound motives, both 
of policy and humanity. They might, 



indeed, have completed the conquest at 
the plaza and taken the citadel ; but it 
would have been at an enormous cost 
of life, both to victors and vanquished ; 
much property would have been de- 
stroyed which was saved by the nego- 
tiation ; nor had General Taylor a force 
sufficient to guard all the avenues of 
escape to so great a body of men. 
Moreover, the prospect of peace was 
urged by the Mexican General in con- 
sequence of the return of Santa Anna, 
which had been more than winked at, 
^vith this view, by the American gov- 
ernment itself, which had indeed pre- 
viously proffered peace negotiations. 
As for the armistice, the little army at 
Monterey was at any rate unable to 
move for some time, until reinforce- 
ments should arrive, upon any further 
considerable expedition into the inte- 
rior. It had but ten days' rations at 
the time of the capitulation, and had 
been all along deficient in wagons. So 
that, on many grounds, the negotiation 
of General Taylor was to be justified. 

These military successes, however 
l)rilliant as they were, were unproduc- 
tive of the desirable result of "con- 
quering a peace" from the enemy. 
The very humiliation which they in- 
flicted, only roused the spirit of the 
country to greater resistance, and what- 
ever peace intentions General Santa 
Anna, now placed at the head of 
affairs, had when he landed at Vera 
Cruz, he was clearly unable to carry 
them out while the Americans were 
thus constantly victorious. For the 
purposes of the war, it might have 
been good policy of the invaders to 
have suffered a defeat, to humor na- 



lU 



ZACIIARY TAYLOR. 



tional pridp, and smooth the wny to oolloot the forces for his exjit'dition. 

nogotiation ami (Miuvssion. DolV'at Tlu' iinportant tlivi.siiuis of (JeiuTal 

was not, however, a word to bo found ! "NVortli, Twiggs, Quitman, and other 

in the military vtu-abulary of Old Zach. choice troops, artillery and volunteei-s. 

He had an indomitaMe, unreasoning were stripped from General Taylor's* 

soldiers logic, which led him by a very ci>nuuand, and his jdan of operations at 

short path to one single conclusion, that Victoria and other advanced places 



victory was tJie business of war ; and 
well or ill j>ro\-ided with such resources 
as he had, in the face of whatever 



in the interior entirely broken up. 
Nothing further was expected of him 
than to defend himself at Monterey, 



obstacles might be in the way, he went , should Santa Anna, who was in great 
straight forward to that result. He . force at San Luis Potosi, extend his 



movements in that dii-ection. The 
IVIexican General, who had become 
aware of the ]>lans of his foe liy an 
intcrcej)tcd ilis])atch, was thought more 
likely to turn his attention to the 
intended landing at Vera Cruz. He 
determined, however, to strike a blow 
with his large army, which seemed 
quite sufficient to sweep every Ameri 



made no noisy demonstrations, but 
took his ground boldly and fought to 
the end. His last liattlo was to crown 
the whole. 

The circumstances luulcr which the 
enojairement at Buena Vista was foucrht. 
rtMider it the most memorable of the 
whole campaign. The government at 
Washingttui having come to the con- 
clusion that their svstcm of bonle. ' can from the neitrhborhood of the Kio 
attack, however well j)ursued, would , Grande. He accordingly marched with 
not end the war, determined to strike , his twenty thousand men toward the 
nt the heart of the country, its capital, jmsition, in the vicinity of Saltillo, of 
by its great avenue of apj)roach, the General Taylor and his bands of volun- 
line of Vera Cruz. In the month of teei*s. 

November, General Scott was ordered ! Among the latter was the new 
to the Gulf of Mexico to take such , and important conuuand of General 
mejisures, as in his judgment he might Wool, which had just reached the 
think proj)er, to cany the resolution scene of action from an overland march 
into etVcct. General Tavlor, in this throudi Texas. To this officer bclouccs 
arrangement, was to be left on the Kio the credit of the selection of the pass 
Grande, with a force barely sutlicient ; where the Americans so well defended 
to maintain a defensive position, while ' themselves : it was his fortune, being 
he yielded to Scott, for his more bril- 1 left in command at the point, to open 
li.int service, the best part of his troo]is, the battle; and to him were sjuvially 
the tried regidai-s who had fought with entrusted some of the most imjiortant 
him from Corpus Christi along the line movenunits of the da} . It was an 
of battles to Monterey. General Scott admirably chosen ground for defence, 
an-ived at the Rio Grande about the a narrow valley enclosed on either 
first of Januar}', 1847, and began to I hand by lofty mountains, with seamed 



ZACnARY TAYLOR. 



165 



and broken ground, with the passage 
on the road additionally protected by 
a river course and deej) i-avine at its side. 
Tlie best naturally guarded ground of 
the whole, where the mountain on one 
side and the ravine on the otlier ap- 
proached nearest each other, the Pass 
of Angostura, was that taken for the 
American stand. There, on the morn- 
ing of the twenty-second of February, 
Washington's birthday, as the enemy 
made his appearance, the road was 
defended by a battery of eight guns, 
supported on either hand by companies 
of infantiy. The remaining troops 
were ])laced, in advantageous positions, 
on a plateau and amidst the ravines, 
across the whole breadth of the valley. 
Th('S(! dispositions were made by Gene- 
ral Wo(j1, General Taylor having been 
during the night at Saltillo, to provide 
against a threatened attack in that 
quarter. He presently came up, biing- 
ing with him additional troops, and 
assumed the command. 

At eleven o'clock, a summons was 
received from Santa Anna to surrender. 
"You are surrounded," was the lan- 
guage of this communication, " by 
twenty thousand men, and cannot, in 
any human probability, avoid suffering 
a rout and being cut to pieces with 
your trofjps ; but as you deserve con- 
sideration and particular esteem, I wish 
to save you j&'om a catastrophe, and for 
that ])urpose give you this notice, in 
order that you may surrender at dis- 
cretion, under the assurance that you 
ivill be treated with the consideration 
belonging to the Mexican character, to 
which end you will be granted an 
houi"'8 time to make up your mind, to 



commence from the moment when my 
flag of truce airives in your camp ;" to 
all which considerate attention, Za- 
chary Taylor sent the following brief 
sentence — " Sir : In reply to your note 
of this date, summoning me to sur- 
render my forces at disci'etion, I beg 
leave to say that I decline acceding to 
your request." So the battle was in- 
augurated. There was some skirmish- 
ing in the afternoon, as the Mexicans 
felt their way preparatory to the action 
of the twenty-third. General Taylor 
again passed the night at Saltillo, his 
presence there being necessary to as- 
sure the defence of the place which 
was now more seriously threatened. 
Before his return to the pass, the ene- 
my, at daylight, had commenced their 
attack. It was made with great force, 
and with varying success. There was 
'.anger of the American position being 
completely turned, but by a series 
of skillful manffcuvres, admirably exe- 
cuted, and sustained by the artillery 
and companies of volunteers, the ene- 
my was driven back. 

An incident occurred in this re 
pulse, which for its bearing upon 
the personal character of General Tay- 
lor, may be separated from the mass 
of details of this engagement Ijang 
before us. "It was during this re- 
treat," says Mr. Daw.son in his account 
of the action, "that two thousand 
Mexicans, anxious to escape the fire in 
their rear, as well as a destructive fire 
on their flank from the troops on the 
plateau, had sought shelter in the 
recesses of the mountains, and were 
huddled together in a helpless, disor- 
derly mass. At this moment the good 



166 



ZACHARY TAYLOR. 



nesa of (roiieral Taylor's heart inter- 
ceded ill tlieir behalf, notwithstanding 
they were enemies; and he hesitated 
before sacrificing a single life — even 
that of an enemy — unnecessarily. With 
the merciful desire of saving life, there- 
fore, he dispatched Lieutenant Critten- 
den, his aid-de-c«mp, with a flag, and 
demanded the surrender of the party ; 
but instead of complying with the 
demand, the Mexicans availed them- 
selves of the opportunity aftbrded them, 
and marched out of the gorge, while 
the troops under General Wool, under 
orders from General Taylor, silently 
looked on, without being permitted to 
fire a shot, or take a step to prevent 
their escape."* 

One last efl'ort was left to be di- 
rected by Santa Anna himself Ral- 
lying liis forces for an overwhelm- 
ing attack on the central ])lateau, he 
would have gained that important 
position had he not been met by 
the American artilleiy, the IMississippi 
rifles, and other comi)anie3 suddenly 
brought into position against him. It 
was on this occasion that General Taj'- 
lor, as the fortune of the day stood in 
the balance, coolly uttered his memora- 
ble advice to his artillerist, "A little 
more grape. Captain Bragg ! " Let him 
tell the story in the usual simple words 
of his own disjiatch, where we may be 
sure we shall hear nothing of this dra- 
matic point. "The moment was most 
critical. Captain O'Brien, with two 
pieces, had sustained the heavy charge 
to the last, ami was finally obliged to 
leave his guns on the field — his infantry 

■ Battles of the United Sutes, II. 496. 



support being entirely routed. Cap- 
tain Bragg, who had just arrived from 
[ the left, was ordered at once into bat- 
I teiy. Without any infantry to sujjjjort 
him, and at the imminent risk of losing 
his guns, this oflicer came rapidly into 
I action, the Me,\icau line being but a 
j few yards from the muzzle of liis pieces. 
The first discharge of canister caused 
the enemy to hesitate ; the second and 
thiid drove him Itack in disorder and 
saved the day." There were other ser- 
j vices rendered in the final repulse, but 
for them and the merits of particular 
oflicers and companies in the battle, we 
must refer the reader to the various 
dispatches and military narratives of 
the day. 

i Let one brief ])assage from General 
Taylor's nai-rative declare the spirit 
which ruled the gallant bands of volun- 
teers, nearly all for the first time under 
fire on that occasion. " No further 
attemj>t," he wi'ites in his ofticial ac- 
count, " was made by the enemy to 
force our position, and the approach of 
night gave an opportunity to pay pro- 
per attention to the wounded, and also 
to refresh the soldiers, Avho had l)een 
exhausted by incessant watchfulness 
and combat. Though the night was 
severely cold, the troops were compelled 
for the most to bivouac without fires, 
expecting that morning would renew the 
conflict. During the night the wound- 
ed were removed to Saltillo, and eveiy 
preparation made to receive the enemy, 
should he again attack our position." 
The enemy, however, made no such 
attempt. Leaving his wounded on the 
way, he made good his retreat to San 
Luis Potosi. The few figures ^Yith 



ZACHART TAYLOR. 



167 



which the stories of all battles end will 
tell better than aught else the heroism 
of the brave encounter. The American 
force engaged was three hundred and 
thirty-four officers and four thousand 
four hundred and twenty-five men, of 
which two squadrons of cavalry and 
three batteries of light artillery, making 
not more than four hundred and fifty- 
three men, composed the only force of 
regular troops. The Mexican forces, 
we have seen stated by Santa Anna 
himself, at twenty thousand, an esti- 
mate confii-med by all subsequent in- 
formation. The American loss was two 
hundred and sixty-seven killed, four 
hundi'ed and fifty-six wounded and 
twenty-three missing. The Mexican 
loss was computed by General Taylor 
at between fifteen hundred and two 
thousand. At least five hundred killed 
were left on the field of battle. 

Thus closed General Taylor's connec- 
tion with the active operations of the 
Mexican War. He was for some time 
engaged in camp duties, when he re- 
quested leave of absence to attend to 
the duties of his plantations on the 
MississipjDi. His home was at Baton 
Rouge, Louisiana, the residence also of 
his estimable son-in-law the late Colonel 
Bliss, a member of his staff dui'ing his 
Mexican camj^aigns. 

The battle of Buena Vista, was, as 
we have seen, fought at the end of 
Februaiy, 1847. Just two years from 
that time, March 4, 1849, its brave and 
modest commander was installed as 
President of the United States at Wash- 
ington. The two events may safely be 
put in conjunction, for one proceeded 
dii'ectly out of the other. General Tay- 



lor, as Senator Benton remarked, was 
the first President elected upon a repu- 
tation purely military. He had been 
in the army from his youth, and, ac- 
cording to the custom of officers of the 
army, had not even voted at an elec- 
tion. He was selected, of course, on 
account of his availability ; yet it was 
an availaliility which did not rest alto- 
gether on his purely military character. 
" It will be a great mistake," said Dan- 
iel Webster to the Senate, " to suppose 
that he owed his advancement to high 
civil trust, or his great acceptableness 
with the people to military talent or 
ability alone. Associated with the 
highest admiration for those qualities 
possessed by him, there was spread 
throughout the community a high de- 
gree of confidence and faith in his in- 
tegrity, and honor, and iiprightness as 
a man. I believe he was especially 
regarded as both a firm and a mild 
man in the exercise of authority ; and I 
have observed more than once, in this 
and in other popular governments, that 
the prevalent motive Avith the masses 
of mankind for conferring high honors 
on individuals is a confidence in their 
mildness, their paternal, protecting, pru- 
dent and safe character." This was 
well said. Every word is in harmony 
with the popular appreciation of Gen- 
eral Taylor; and there are doubtless 
many living in Mexico, as well as in his 
own country, who would respond to 
the sentiment. The soldier who could 
pause in the midst of such a day as that 
of Buena Vista to arrest the tide of 
slaughter, when slaughter was self pre- 
servation, with the deed of mercy Ave 
have recorded, must be entitled to no 



168 



ZACHART TAYLOR. 



common meed of praise on the ground 
of humanity. But something more was 
added by liis eminent euh)gist. "I 
suppose," said Mr. Webster, " tliat no 
case ever hai)pened, in the very best 
days of tlic Roman republic, when a 
man found himself clothed with the 
higlu'st authority in the state under 
circumstances more repelling all suspi- 
cion of j)ersonal apj)lication, of pur- 
suing any crooked path in politics, or 
of having been actuated by sinister 
views and purposes, than in the case of 
this worthy, and eminent, and distin- 
guished, and good man."* 

The circumstance that Mr. Webster 
was himself a candidate before the 
Whig convention, which nominated 
General Taylor for the Presidency, adds 
Aveight to these assertions. Mr. Cass 
was the opjiosing democratic candidate. 
The vote of the electors was one hun- 
dred and sixty-three to one hundred 
and twenty-seven. 

Of the qualities of his short admi- 
nistration of the office, let a member of 
the party Opposed to his election speak. 
The late Senator Benton says : " His 
brief career showed no deficiency of 
political wisdom for want of previous 

' Komarka in the Senate on the death of General Tay- 
lor. — Webster's Works, p. 409.. 



political training. He came into the 
administration at a time of great difli- 
culty, and acted tip to the enici-gency 
of his position. . . . His death was 
a public calamity. No man could have 
been more devoted to the Union, or 
more opposed to the slavery agitation ; 
and his position as a Southern man, 
and a slaveholder — his militaiy repu- 
tation and his election l)y a majority 
of the people and of the States — would 
have given him a power in the settle- 
ment of these questions which no Pre- 
sident without these qualifications could 
have possessed. In the political di\n- 
sion he classed with the Whig party ; 
but his administration, as far as it went, 
was applauded by the democracy, and 
promised to be so to the end of his offi- 
cial term. Dying at the head of the 
government, a national lamentation be- 
wailed his departure from life and 
power, and embalmed his memory in 
the affections of his country." * 

General Taylor died at Washington, 
at the Presidential mansion, July 9, 
1850, of a fever contracted by exposure 
to the intense heat of the sun, in attend- 
ance upon the ceremonies of the Day 
of Independence. 

' Benton's Thirty Tears' View, IT. J65-«. 




< //-/'M. 



//r«<v^^ 



MILLARD FILLMORE. 



The family of Millard Fillmore has 
an honorable descent in American his- 
tory. ItH records are diversified by 
remarkable incidents of war and a<l- 
venture. John Fillmore, the great- 
grandfather of the President of the 
United States, and the common ances- 
tor of all of that name in the United 
States, was bom at Ipswich, Massachu- 
setts, aVjout the beginning of the eight- 
eenth century. He is recollected as 
the hero of a brave and successful 
struggle with certain pirates into whose 
hands it was his luck to fall in a sail- 
ing venture out of Boston. He was 
about nineteen when he sailed in a 
fishing vessel from that port, and had 
been but a few days at sea when the 
craft was captured by a noted jjirate 
ship commanded by one Captain Phil- 
lips. P'ilhnore became a prisoner, and 
so continued on board the ship for nine 
months, steadily refusing his liberty on 
the only condition on which it would 
be granted, to sign the piratical articles 
of the vessel and take part in its for- 
tunes. Though threatened -v^dth death, 
he j^ersisted in his denial, till finally, 
two others having been taken captive, 
he joined with them in an attack on 
the crew ; several were killed ; the ves- 
sel was rescued and carried safely into 
Boston. The surviving pirates were 
22 



tried and executefl, and the captors 
were honored by the thanks of the 
British government. Young Fillmore 
aftei-wards settled in Connecticut, where 
he died. His son, Nathaniel, was 
an early settler in the Hampshire 
Grants, at Bennington, a fiontier posi- 
tion in those days which, as a matter 
of course, made him a soldier in the 
seven years' war with France. He was 
also a gallant Whig of the Revolution, 
serving, when his home became the the- 
atre of hostilities, as lieutenant under 
General Stark, in the spirited and deci- 
sive conflic-t at Bennington. He died 
in 1814, lea\'ing a son, Nathaniel, who 
early in life migrated to what is now 
called Summer Hill, in Cayuga County, 
New York, where he followed the life 
of a farmer. There his son Millard, the 
future President, was born, January 7, 
1800. The family shortly after re- 
moved to another place in the same 
county. 

" The narrow means of his father," 
we are told in a narrative of these early 
years, published some years since in the 
"American Review," " deprived Millaid 
of any advantages of education beyond 
what were afforded by the imp^erfec-t and 
Ul-taught common schools of the county. 
Books were scarce and dear, and at the 
age of fifteen, when more favored 

109 



170 



MIILLARD FILLMORE. 



youths are far ndvanccd in their classi- 
Ciil studies, or enjoy iiii? in colleges the 
lienefit of well-furnished libraries, young 
Fillmore had read Init little except his 
coninion-sehool books and the Bible. At 
that period he was sent into the then 
wilds of Livingston County to learn the 
clothier's trade. He remained there 
about four months, and was then placed 
with another jierson to piu'sue the same 
business and wool-carding, in the town 
of Sempronius, now Niles, where liis 
father lived. A small village library 
that was fonued there soon after, gave 
him the first means of acquiring gene- 
ral knowledije through books. He im- 
proved the opportunity thus offered ; 
the appetite grew by what it fed upon. 
Tlie thirst for knowledge soon became 
insatiate, and every leisiu'e moment was 
spent in reading. Four years were 
passed in this ^vay, working at his 
trade and storing his mind, during such 
hours as he could command, with the 
contents of books of history, biography, 
and travels. At the age of nineteen he 
fortunately made an acquaintance with 
the late "Walter Wood, Esquire, whom 
many will remember as one of the most 
estimable citizens of Cayuga County. 
Judge Wood was a man of wealth and 
great business capacity ; he had an ex- 
cellent law library, but did little pro- 
fessional business. lie soon saw that 
under the rude exterior of the clothier's 
boy, were powera that only required 
])roi)er development to raise the jiosses- 
sor to high distinction and usefulness, 
and advised hira to quit his trade and 
study law. In reply to the objection 
of a lack of education, means and 
friends to aid him in a course of j)rofcs- 



sional study. Judge Wood kindly offered 
to give him a j)lacc in his office, to ad- 
vance money to defray his expenses, and 
wait until success in business should 
furnish the means of repayment. The 
offer was accepted. The apprentice boy 
bought his time, entered the office of 
Judge Wood, and for more than two 
years applied himself closely to busi- 
ness and study. lie read law and 
general literature and practised sur- 
veying." 

Not content with entire dependence 
upon his benefactor for his sujii)ort, he 
resorted to that unfailing' resource of an 
American youth making progress from 
poverty upward to the intellectual pro- 
fessions — he became a schoolmaster for 
a portion of the year. At the age of 
twenty-one he removed to Erie County,' 
and entered a law office in Butfalo. His 
legal studies were completed in 1823, 
when, diffident of success in a city so 
well stocked with the profession as his 
late residence, he began the practice of 
law at Aurora. He shortly after was 
married to the daughter of the Rev. 
Lemuel Powere. Success came to him 
gradually, affording him amjile time to 
develop his studies by patient applica- 
tion. He pursued this path, gaining 
his ground surely and steadily. In 
1828, he was elected a member of the 
assembly in the State legislature by a 
Whig constituency of his county, and 
signalized himself at Albany by his ad- 
vocacy of the bill for the abolition of 
imprisonment for debt, a portion of 
which was prepared by him as a mem- 
ber of the committee. He now had his 
residence as a member of the bar at 
Buffal... 



MILLARD FILLMORE. 



171 



His congressional life commenced in 
1833, with his election to the House of 
Representatives. It was the beginning 
of the second term of Jackson's admin- 
istration, that period of conflict which 
was to test to the uttermost the party 
strength of the great chieftain, and out 
of which he was to emerge triumph- 
antly. Mr. Fillmore, a young member 
of the House of the losing side was 
there to . learn his lesson of political 
wisdom in the agitation. He secured 
the respect of his constituents by his 
course, and made a considerable step 
onward in liis career, without greatly 
attracting puT)lic attention. His term 
of two years having expired, he was not 
immediately a candidate for reelection, 
but devoted himself to his profession at 
Buffalo. He was not, however, suffered 
to rest in private life. In 1836, he was 
again elected to Congress, taking his 
seat at the commencement of Mr. Van 
Buren's administration, and continuing 
to serve by reelection through the 
whole period of his Presidency. He 
rose with his experience in the national 
councils, being in this second term, the 
first session of the twenty-sixth Congress, 
placed at the head of the committee on 
elections, which threw into his hands the 
management of the famous contested 
New Jersey case. Mr. Fillmore was 
again elected to the next succeeding Con- 
gress of 1841, by a larger majority than 
he had hitherto received. The Whigs 
being now in power, he was placed at the 
head of the important committee on 
Ways and Means, where he was charged 
with duties which fully called forth his 
resources, and placed him at length in a 
conspicuous position before the public. 



At the close of this teiin, though 
renominated by his friends in Erie 
County, he persisted in declining a con- 
tinuance in office. His profession had 
claims upon his attention to wliich he 
was eager to respond, and his temperar 
ment invited repose. His political posi- 
tion, however, was too well established 
for him to be left in quiet by his party. 
He was immediately adopted as their 
candidate for Governor of New York, 
accepted the nomination, and was de- 
feated in the election of 1844. In 1847 
he was chosen comptroller of the State, 
by a large majority. He commenced 
his new duties at Albany, at the be- 
ginning of 1848, and before the year 
was closed, was nominated and elected 
Vice-President of the United States, 
He had the same vote "with his princi- 
pal. General Taylor, of fifteen States, 
and a majority of the electoral vote of 
thirty-six. 

The duties of his new office of coui'se 
involved his resignation of the comp- 
troUership. He entered upon the Pre- 
sidency of the Senate in March, 1849 ; 
it was an office which he was well fitted 
to discharge, and he left behind him, 
when he was called to a higher station, 
an impression of his moderation and 
m-banity. On the 9th of July, ISoO, 
while Congress was in session, the sud- 
den death of General Taylor, devolved 
upon him the cares and responsibilities 
of the Presidency. In deference to the 
general feeling of regret which was 
called forth by the departure of this 
estimable man, and in obedience to his 
successor's own feelings, his entrance 
into office was conducted in the sim- 
plest manner. The day after the death 



172 



MILLARD FILLMORE. 



of the late President, attended by a 
committee of the two Houses and the 
memhers of the hite President's cabinet, 
the oatli was administered to him, not 
in front of the Capitol but in the Hall 
of the House of Representatives, by the 
venerable Judi^e Ci-anch, of the Cir- 
cuit Court of the District of Columbia, 
" which being done. President Fillmore, 
without any inaugural address, bowed 
and retired, and the ceremony was at 
an end."' 

In his annual message, however, on 
the reassembling of Congress, in De- 
cember, he took occasion to supply what 
may be regarded as the substitute for 
the usual inaugural address. " Being 
suddenly called," says he in that doc- 
ument, " in the midst of the last session 
of Congress, by a painful dispensation 
of Divine Providence, to the responsi- 
ble station which I now hold, I con- 
tented myself with such communica- 
tions to the Legislature as the exigency 
of the moment seemed to require. The 
country was shrouded in mourning for 
the loss of its venerated chief magis- 
trate, and all hearts were penetrated 
■vnth i'rief Neither the time nor the 
occasion appeared to require or to jus- 
tify, on my jiart, any general expression 
of political oj)inions, or any announce- 
ment of the ])rinciples which would 
govern me in the discharge of the duties 
to the performance of which I had \yeen 
so unexpectedly called. I trust, there- 
fore, that it may not be deemed inap- 
propriate, if I avail myself of this op- 
portunity of the reassembling of Con- 
fess, \o make kno\vii my sentiments 



' liiiiioirs Tliirlj- Years' View, II. 767. 



in a general manner, in regard to the 
policy which ought to be jnwsued by 
the government, both in its intercourse 
with foreign nations, and in its manage- 
ment and administration of internal 
aS'airs. 

" Nations, like individuals in a state 
of nature, are equal and independent, 
possessing certain rights, and owing 
certain duties to each other, arising from 
their necessary and unavoidable rela- 
tions ; which rights and duties there is 
no common human authority to protect 
and enforce. Still, they are rights and 
duties, binding in morals, in conscience, 
and in honor, although there is no tri- 
bunal to which an injui'ed party can 
a})peal, but the disinterested judgment 
of mankind, and ultimately the arbitra- 
ment of the sword. 

" Among the acknowledged rights of 
nations is that which each possesses of 
establishing that form of government 
which it may deem most conducive to 
the happiness and prosperity of its own 
citizens ; of changing that form, as cir 
cumstances may retpiire ; and of manag- 
ing its internal affairs according to its 
own will. The people of the United 
States claim this right for them- 
selves, and they readily concede it to 
othens. Hence it becomes an impera- 
tive duty not to interfere in the govern- 
ment or internal policy of other nations; 
and, although we may sympathize with 
the unfortunate or the o])pressed, every- 
where, in their struggles for freedom, 
our principles forbid us from taking 
any part in such foreign contests. We 
make no wars to promote or to prevent 
successions to thrones; to maintain any 
theory of a balance of power; or to 



MILLARD FILLMORE. 



1Y3 



suppress the actual government which 
any country chooses to establish for 
itself. We instigate no revolutions, nor 
suffer any hostile military expeditions 
to be fitted out in the United States to 
invade the territory or jirovinces of a 
friendly nation. The great law of mo- 
rality ought to have a national, as well 
as a personal and individual, applica- 
tion. We should act towards other na- 
tions as we wish them to act toAvards 
us ; and justice and conscience should 
form the rule of conduct between gov- 
ernments, instead of mere power, self- 
interest, or the desire of a^e-randize- 
ment. To maintain a strict neutrality 
in foreign wars, to cultivate friendly 
relations, to reciprocate every noble and 
generous act, and to perform punctually 
and scrupulously every treaty obliga- 
tion — these are the duties which we 
owe to other States, and by the per- 
formance of which we best entitle our- 
selves to like treatment from them ; or 
if that, in any case, be refused, we can 
enforce our own rights with justice and 
with a clear conscience. 

" In our domestic policy, the Constitu- 
tion will be my guide ; and in questions 
of doubt, I shall look for its interpreta- 
tion to the judicial decisions of that tri- 
bunal which was established to expound 
it, and to the usage of the government, 
sanctioned by the acquiescence of the 
country. I regard all its provisions as 
equally binding. In all its parts it is 
the will of the people, expressed in the 
most solemn form, and the constituted 
authorities are but agents to carry that 
will into effect. Every power which it 
has granted is to be exercised for the 
public good ; but no pretence of utility, 



no honest conviction even, of what 
might be expedient, can justify the 
assumption of any power not granted. 
The powers conferred upon the govern- 
ment and their distribution to the seve- 
ral departments, are as clearly expressed 
in that sacred instrument as the imper- 
fection of human language will allow ; 
and I deem it my first duty, not to 
question its wisdom, add to its provi- 
sions, evade its requirements, or nullify 
its commands." 

The loss of General Taylor was the 
more felt as the country was at the time 
agitated with the discussions growing 
out of the subject of slavery, which had 
arisen with the question of the disposi- 
tion of the territory conquered from 
Mexico ; and the late President, of mo- 
derate views, and capable of giving 
great weight to them in the national 
councils, by his intimate relations with 
the South, was looked to as the great 
mediator in effecting a compromise of 
the conflicting interests. This had al- 
ready been proposed by Mr. Clay, and 
found an advocate in the President. 
Thus, when his aid seemed most needed, 
he expired, leaving the great work to 
be accomplished by his successor. It 
was undertaken by him, so far as the 
influence of his office extended, in a 
spirit of conciliation. His choice of 
Daniel Webster as Secretary of State, 
and of the other members of his cabinet, 
from different portions of the Union, 
was an earnest of his intentions. The 
boundary between Texas and New 
Mexico, a matter of some difficulty, was 
adjusted, California was admitted as a 
free State, Utah Ten-itory was organ- 
ized, and the Fugitive Slave Law en- 



lU 



MlLLAllD FILLMORE. 



acted. In otlior atTairs of social im- 
portance, ProsiiU'iit Fillmore's biiof term 
of office was signali/.oil by several inci- 
dents which will always find a ])lace 
in the history of the country. The re- 
duction of jiostage on lettei-s to the uni- 
tbrni rate of three cents; the return of 
the government Arctic exjiedition of 
Lieutenant De Haven, sent i\i quest of 
Sir John Franklin ; the visit of Kossuth 
to the country in 185 1 ; the sailing of 
Commodore Terry's exi>edition to Ja- 
pan in the following year, arc events 
which will be more lasting in their con- 
sequences than many battles which 
have tilled, for the time, a larger space 
in the public attention. 

Mr. Fillmoiv's term of office closed in 
the spring of 1853. The following year 



he made a tour in the South, wliere ho 
was well received, and in 1855 visited 
Euroi)e to i-eturn in season for the Pre- 
sidential canvass of 185G. He was i)ut 
forward in that election as a medium 
candiilate of the American {)arty, lie- 
tween the nominee of the Democratic 
party, ]\Ir. Buchanan, and Colonel Fre- 
mont, of the lu'iiublican. In such a 
contest there was little strength to be 
wasted by the two great divisions 
which swallowed up the rest. Mr. 
Fillmore received the vote only of the 
single State of ^laryland. 

Since that i)eriod ^Mr. Fillmore has 
not been before the jniblic as a candi- 
date for office. He has continued to 
reside in the western pai't of the State 
of New York. 





^^^zc^ 



FRANKLIN PIERCE. 



Franklin Peeeoe, the fourteenth Pre- 
sident of the United States, was bom 
at Hillsborough, in the State of New 
Hampshire, November 23, 1804. His 
father, Benjamin Pierce, a native of 
Massachusetts, with many other spirited 
youths, entered the Revolutionary army 
at the summons of Lexington, served 
through the war with credit, and re- 
tiring with the rank of captain, a year 
or two after peace was declared, became 
the purchaser of a plot of fifty acres in 
the present town of Hillsborough, then 
a rough clearing in the wilderness. 
There he built a log-house and settled 
down to the clearing of the land, his 
second wife, to whom he was united in 
1789, becoming the mother of the sub- 
ject of this sketch who was the sixth 
of her eight children. The captain of 
the Revolution meanwhile attracted the 
attention of the people of the region, 
was made brigade major on the organi- 
zation of the militia of the county; 
in 1789 was elected a member of the 
House ©f Representatives at Concord, 
continuing to serve in that capacity for 
thirteen years till he was chosen a 
member of the Governor's Council. An 
eminent member of the Democratic 
party, he was an ardent supporter of 
the war of 1812, sending two of his 
sons to the army. He rose to be Gover- 



nor of New Hampshire in 182Y, and 
was again elected to that office in 1829. 
He subsequently lived in retirement, 
leaving the world in 1839, at the 
venerable age of eighty-one. The peo- 
ple of New Hampshire have not yet 
forgotten the shrewd sense and kindli- 
ness, the unaifected democratic princi- 
ples, of the honest, cheerful old soldier 
of the Revolution and Governor of the 
State. It is to his memory, doubt- 
less, supported by the popular traits of 
character inherited from him, that his 
son has been indebted for much of his 
advancement. 

Franklin had good opportunities of 
education. He was early sent to the 
neighboring academies at Hancock and 
Francestown, enjoying at the latter the 
advantages of a residence with the 
family of an old friend of his father, 
Peter Woodbury, whose son. Judge 
Woodbury, became afterward so emi- 
nent in public afi'airs. Young Pierce, 
who was of a warmhearted, susceptible 
nature, was much impressed by the 
superior mind and character of the lady 
of this household, the mother of Judge 
Woodbury. Indeed he appears in his 
boyhood to have won the kindness of 
those around him by his frank, inge- 
nuous disposition. He was admitted 

to Bowdoin college in 1820. It is to 

176 



176 



FRANKLIN TIERCE. 



the credit of young Pierce as a collegian 
tlij^t, having fallen into some indiffe- 
rence during the first years of his 
course, he more than regained his posi- 
tion in the upper classes, graduating 
with credit in 1824. It is a fact worth 
mentioning, though, as his biographer 
remarks, by no means unusual in the 
history of the rise of New England 
statesmen, that in one of the winter va- 
cations Franklin Pierce took a tui'n at 
school-keeping. 

His college instruction being com- 
pleted, he began the study of the laAV 
as a profession in the oflice of Judge 
iVoodbury, of Portsmouth, the son of 
his father's old friend, then Governor 
of tlie State, and soon afterward greatly 
distinguished at Washington as Speaker 
and senator, and member of the cabinet 
of Jackson. After a year with this 
eminent jurist, Mr. Pierce completed his 
studies in the law school at Northamj)- 
ton and the office of the Hon. Edmund 
Parker, at Amherst. He was admitted 
to the bar in 1827, and opened an office 
opposite to his father's house at Hills- 
borough. His success, though he had 
the advantage of the family popularity, 
was not very decided at the outset. 
His biographer, indeed, speaks of his 
first case as a decided foihu'e. He had 
not yet learned the full command of 
his resoiu-ces. It was hia fortune to 
make his position at the bar good 
by steady eff'ort. Politics, meanwhile, 
offered him a ready resource, as his 
father had just been elected Governor. 
Democratic sentiments were gaining the 
ascendenc}' under the influence of Jack- 
son, and to this cause young Pierce de- 
voted himself In 1829, and for three 



successive years, he was elected to the 
legislature of his State, as representa- 
tive of Hillsborough, filling in 1832 and 
1833 the office of Speaker. In the last 
year he was chosen a member of Con- 
gress, taking his seat in the House of Re- 
presentatives at Washington, in Decem- 
ber. He was again elected and served a 
second term. He was of course a steady, 
unflinching supporter of the administra- 
tion, for the democratic rule of those 
days admitted no other — not a frequent, 
or long, or elocpieut speaker, but a zeal- 
ous, persistent committee man, giving 
his vote for the measures of his chief, 
seconding the ^-iews of the South, and, 
a decided man generally in his party 
relations. 

In 1837 he left the House of Repre- 
sentatives for the Senate of the United 
States, where he was the youngest 
member of that body. His term of ser- 
vice embraced the whole of IMr. Van 
Buren's administration and a portion 
of that of his successor, during which 
his services to his party were resolute 
and unintermitted. They were not for- 
gotten Avhen an opportunity subse- 
quently arose to confer upon him the 
highest reward. He retired fi-om pub- 
lic life at the end of the peiiod for 
which he was elected, haAnng his resi- 
dence now at Concord, in his native 
State. He had been for some time 
married to a daughter of the Rev. Dr. 
Appleton, once President of Bowdoin; 
his father was now dead; and his do- 
mestic aftaii's required his care at home. 
Thither he retired to devote himself as- 
siduously to his profession. His suc- 
cess was immediately assured, his prac- 
tice at the bar yielding him a very 



FRANKLIN PIERCE. 



177 



handsome income. In proof of his con- 
tentment and the sincerity of his wishes 
for retirement, he declined in 1845 an 
appointment by the Governor to the 
United States Senate to fill the place 
vacated by Judge Woodbury, and a 
proffer by the Democracy of his State 
of a nomination as Governor; refusinar 
also in the following year a seat in the 
cabinet of President Polk as Attorney- 
General. He held meanwhile the post, 
at home, of District Attorney of New 
Hampshire. 

His reluctance to engage in public 
life at Washington partly proceeded 
from his professional duties in his own 
State and partly from the health of his 
wife, to which the climate of the seat 
of government was unfavorable. In his 
letter to President Polk, dated Septem- 
ber 6, 1846, declining the position of 
Attorney-General, he made use of this 
expression : " When I resigned my seat 
in the senate in 1842, I did it with the 
fixed purpose never again to be volun- 
tarily sejiarated from my family, for 
any considerable length of time, except 
at the call of my country in time of 
•war." The reservation, lookincr to the 
date, was not without its significance. 
General Taylor had in May fought the 
battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la 
Palma, and it was evident that more 
serious struggles, which would call out 
a new military force, were impending. 
Congress was slow to admit the neces- 
sity in making provision for the addi- 
tional force, but when the time came 
and the bill creating ten new regiments 
was passed, Franklin Pierce was looked 
to and created by the President a 
brigadier-general, his commission being 

23 



dated March 3, 1847. He had pre- 
viously enrolled his name on the first 
list of volunteers at Concord as a pri- 
vate soldier. He considered his accep- 
tance of the duty a fulfillment of his 
pledge on taking leave of the Senate, 
The old military spirit of two wars in 
which his father and brothers had taken 
part again lived in the family. 

The brigade of which he was placed 
in command consisted of twenty-five 
hundred men, composed of the ninth 
regiment of New England ers, the twelfth 
from the south-western States, and the 
fifteenth from the north and west. 
They were to assemble at Vera Cruz, 
and join the forces of General Scott on 
his march to the capital. General Pierce 
sailed from Newport on the 27th of 
May, with a portion of the New Eng- 
land regiment; the voyage was calm 
and consequently long; biingingthe pas- 
sengers to the rendezvous at the most 
unhealthy season of the year. As the 
vomito then prevailed at Vera Cruz, 
the prospect of landing new recraits 
was anything but a happy one. It was 
the work before the new general, how- 
ever, and he courageously faced it. The 
portions of his Diary published by his 
biographer, show the full extent of the 
difiiculties which he encountered, and 
which were met by him vdth manly 
resolution. Avoiding the city, he sta- 
tioned his men on an extensive sand 
beach in the vicinity, where they would 
at least have the benefit of a free circu- 
lation of air. It was the be2:inningr of 
July, and no means were at hand to 
exjjedite the departure for the interior. 
A large number of wild mules had been 
collected, but, inferior as they were for 



178 



FRANKLIN TIERCE. 



purposes of transportation, they were so 
ill provided with proper attendants that 
most of them broke a^^■ay in a stam- 
pede. "The Mexicans fully believe," 
is the language of the journal of June 
2S, •' that most of my command must 
die of vomito before I can be prepared 
to march into the interior," A delay 
of but a day or two was expected ; it 
was now running into weeks. Then 
he records the services of Major Woods, 
a West Point officer " of great intelli- 
gence, experience, and coolness, who 
kindly consented to act as my adjutant- 
general." There is a serious case of 
vomito in the camp. Captain Duff, who 
is sent to the hospital in the city. At 
length, after three weeks on the shore, 
the advance is sent off, and a few days 
after the general himself follows. It is 
not an easy road to travel. The great 
battles of the prcN-ious expeditions had 
cleared the road of extensive fortifica- 
tions, but left it free to be assailed by 
straggling pju-ties of guerillas, of whom 
General Pierce and his men are to have 
a taste as they carry their train of men 
and munitions to the main army at 
Puebla. He Avas twice attacked on the 
route, on leaving San Juan, when both 
sides of the road were beset by the 
Mexicans, and again at the National 
Bridge, where a formidable effort was 
made to arrest his progress. The ene- 
my had erected a bairicade at the 
bridge, and manned a tomporar}'' breast- 
work on a hit'h commandinii: bluff 
above. General Pierce, looking around 
for means of annoyance to cover his 
advance, found a position for several 
pieces of cannon, but the main advan- 
tage was gained by a portion of his 



command in charging the defences at 
the bridge and gaining the enemy's 
works from the rear. In this encrage- 
ment, which seems to have been well 
managed in securing the speedy retreat 
of the Mexicans, General Pierce was 
under fire, and received an escopette 
ball through the rim of his liat, without, 
however, other damage, as he adds in 
his journal, " than leaving my head for 
a short time without protection from 
the sun." The train thus relieved ad- 
vanced to the Plan del Rio, where the 
bridge, a work of the old Spaniards, 
was found to be destroyed. Its main 
arch, a span of about sixty feet, was 
bloAvn up. Below yawned a gulf of a 
hundred feet. The bank in the neigh- 
borhood a])peared impassable for ^va- 
gons. In this emergency General Pierce 
called upon one of his New England 
officers, Captain Bodfish, of the Nintli 
Infantry, who " had been eng;iged for 
many years in the lumber business, and 
accustomed to the construction of roads 
in the wild and mountainous districts 
of Maine, and was, withal, a man not 
lightly to be checked by slight ol> 
stacles in the accomplishment of an en- • 
terprise." This enterprising officer had 
by no means the resources of Maine at 
his command, for there was no timber 
in the vicinity ; but the road was con- 
structed, nevertheless, and the train 
passed in safety over it. After this 
there Avere no extraordinary difficulties 
to be overcome, and General Pierce, on 
the seventh of August, reached the head 
quarters of General Scott at Puebla, 
with his brigade, which, after undergo- 
ing some changes on the way at Perote, 
consisted of some tweuty-foui' hundred 



FRANKLIN PIERCE. 



179 



men. The guerillas who infested his 
path had not succeeded in captuiing a 
single wagon. 

With this reenforcement General 
Scott immediately began his advance 
to the valley of Mexico. In the first 
action, that at the heights of Contreras, 
where the enemy's works, having been 
approached with difficulty, were suc- 
cessfully stormed with great gallantry, 
General Pierce was in command at the 
outset in the attack upon the front of 
the intrenchments. It was a duty of 
peculiar toil and hazard. The ground, 
the famous pedregal, was a broken, 
rocky surface, impracticable for cavaliy 
and harassing for infantry. General 
Pierce was the only mounted officer in 
the brigade, and, as he -was pressing to 
the head of his column, after addressiuo- 
the colonels and captains of his regi- 
ment as they passed by him, his horse 
slipped among the rocks and fell, crush- 
ing his rider in the fall. This was the 
first of a series of disasters which 
weighed heavily upon General Pierce 
through the remainder of the brief cam- 
paign, but which his energy and spirit 
enabled him in a considerable measure 
to overcome. He was at first stunned 
by the fall with the horse, but recover- 
ing his consciousness, was hm-ried on in 
the battle, having been assisted to a 
seat in the saddle. When told that he 
would not be able to keep his seat, 
" Then," said he, " you must tie me on." 
He lay that night writhing in pain 
from his wounded knee, on an ammu- 
nition wagon, to be mounted again the 
next morning, the decisive day at Con- 
treras, and was enabled to hold his 
position and lead his brigade in pur- 



suit. In the course of this duty he was 
summoned to the commander-in-chief, 
who perceived at once his shattered 
condition. "Pierce, my dear fellow," 
said the veteran kindly, " you are badly 
injured; you are not fit to be in the 
saddle." " Yes, general, I am," replied 
Pierce, "in a case like this." "You 
cannot touch your foot to the stirrup," 
said Scott. " One of them I can," an- 
swered Pierce. The general, says the 
authentic narrative before us, looked 
again at Pierce's almost disabled figure, 
and seemed on the point of taking his 
irrevocable resolution. " You are rash, 
General Pierce," said he; "we shall lose 
you, and we cannot spare you. It is 
my duty to order you back to St. Aii- 
gustin." "For God's sake, general," 
exclaimed Pierce, "don't say that! 
This is the last great battle, and I must 
lead my brigade !" The commander-in- 
chief made no further remonstrance, 
but gave the order for Pierce to ad- 
vance with his brigade. The sequel 
may best be told in his biographer, 
Mr. Hawthorne's, interesting narrative. 
" The way lay through thick, standing 
corn, and over marshy ground, inter- 
cepted with ditches, which were filled, 
or partially so, with water. Over some 
of the narrower of these Pierce leaped 
his horse. When the brigade had ad- 
vanced about a mile, however, it found 
itself impeded by a ditch ten or twelve 
feet wide, and six or eight feet deep. 
It being impossible to leap it. General 
Pierce was lifted from his saddle, and 
in some incomprehensible way, hurt as 
he was, contrived to wade or scramble 
across this obstacle, leaving his horse 
on the hither side. The troops were 



180 



FRANKLIN PIERCE. 



now under fire. In the excitement of 
the battle he forgot his injury and hur- 
ried forwai-d, leading; the brigade a dis- 
tance of two or three hundred yards. 
But the exhaustion of his frame, and 
partii'ularly the anguish of his knee — 
made more intolerable by such free use 
of it — was greater than any strength of 
nerve, or any degree of mental energy 
could struggle against. lie fell, faint 
and almost insensible, within full range 
of the enemy's fire. It was proposed 
to bear him off the field; but, as some 
of his soldiers approached to lift him, 
ho became aware of their purpose, and 
was jiartially revived liy his determina- 
tion to resist it. " No," said he, with 
all the strength he had left, "don't 
enny me oft' ! let me lie here !" And 
there he lay wider the tremendous fire 
of Cherubusco, until the enemy, in total 
rout, was di'iven from the field." In 
the negotiations which immediately en- 
sued, General Pierce was honored by 
the commander-in-chief Avith the ap- 
pointment of one of the commissioners 
to arrange the terms of the armistice. 
Jaded and worn out as he Avas, having 
been two nights without sleep and un- 
able to move without assistance, he at- 
tended to this duty before seeking repose. 
In the subsequent action of the cam- 
paign, at the battle of Molino del Rey, he 
rendered an important service to General 
Worth at the close of that bloody fight, 
in interposing to receive the fii-e of the 
enemy, and, the victory having been 
gained, occupied the field. He would 
have been prominently engaged in the 
sequel to this battle, the storming of 
Chapultepec, l>ut he had now become 
80 ill as to be compelled to seek relief 



at the head-quaj-ters of General Worth, 
where he remained when this conclud- 
ing action of the war was fou^rht. lie 
rose, however, from his sick couch to 
report himself to General Quitman, 
ready to take part in the final a<5sault 
upon the city ; l)ut this perilous duty 
was happily spared him by the timely 
capitulation. 

On his return to the United States 
at the close of 1847, General Pierce 
having resigned his commission at 
Washington, was received at Concord, 
in his native State, with the utmost en- 
thusiasm. Welcomed to the toAvn hall 
in a complimentary speech by General 
Low, he replied in an address of great 
propriety, skillfully turning the occasion 
to the praises of his comrades in the 
war. He spoke of the New England 
regiment in general, of its sacrifices and 
deeds of honor, and particularly of the 
brave men who had tallen on the field. 
He also paid a well-deserved compli- 
ment to the oflicers furnished to the 
war by the Military Academy at West 
Point, a tribute which came Avith more 
emphasis from his lips, as in former 
days in Congress he had opjiosed the 
usual annual appropriation for that in- 
stitution. In recognition of his services, 
he was shortly after presented with a 
sword by the legislatui-e of New Hamjv 
shire. 

General Pierce now passed into re- 
tirement and was again engaged in the 
practice of his profession. He took 
pai't, however, in the political affixirs of 
his party, particularly in the canvass 
of 1848 when General Cass was a can- 
didate for the Presidency. The Demo- 
cratic party then suft'ered a defeat, but 



FRANKLIN PIERCE. 



181 



rallied again for action in 1852, when 
General Pierce was put in nomination 
for that liigh office. Previously to this 
election his position was strengthened 
in New Hampshire by his election as 
President of the convention for the re- 
vision of the State constitution, and as 
the time for the choice of a new Presi- 
dent of the Union approached he was put 
forward by the democracy of the State 
as a suitable candidate. The nominating 
convention of his party met at Balti- 
more in Juue, 1852 ; there was some 
difficulty in deciding uj^on a candidate, 
and several days had passed in the dis- 
cussion,when General Pierce was brought 
forward by the Virginia delegation on 
the thirty-sixth ballot. His strength 
continued to increase as the contest was 
carried on, till, on the forty-ninth bal- 
lot, he received two hundi'ed and eighty- 
two out of the two hundred and ninety- 
three votes cast. In the election which 
followed, he was chosen over General 
Scott, the candidate of the Whig party, 
by a popular majority of two hundred 
and three thousand, three hundred and 
six, their joint votes being two millions, 
nine hundred and eighty-nine thousand, 
four hundred and eighty-four. He had 
the electoral votes of all the States ex- 
cepting Vermont, Massachusetts, Ken- 
tucky and Tennessee. 



The Presidential administration of 
General Pierce from 1853 to 1857 
when he was succeeded by James Bu- 
chanan, was an interval of comparative 
repose, marked by no extraordinary 
events of foreign or domestic policy 
vnth the exception of the revival of 
the slavery agitation in the passage 
of the Kansas and Nebraska Teni- 
torial act in 1854, setting aside the 
geographical limit imposed by the 
compromise of 1850. In the late Go- 
vernor Marcy, President Pierce had 
the services of a Secretary of State 
of eminent ability, who conducted the 
foreign affairs of the government with 
firmness and discretion. Among the 
home incidents of the time may be 
mentioned the erection of a Crystal 
Palace at New York, follomng the ex 
ample of the previous great fair at Lon- 
don, for the exhibition of the industry 
of all nations. This undertaking, which 
was brilliantly carried out, was inaugu 
rated by President Pierce in July, 
1853, shortly after the commencement 
of his administration. After the close 
of his Presidential term. General Pierce 
visited the island of Madeira and made 
a prolonged tour in Europe. On his 
return to America, he again took up his 
residence in his old home at Concord, 
New Hampshire. 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 



The fotlier of James Buolian.an, the 
fifteenth President of the United States, 
was a native of the county of Donegal, 
in the north of Ireland, who emigrated 
to the United States in 1783, the year 
which closed the War of the Revolu- 
tion with the declaration of peace. He 
came to America a poor man, like thou- 
sands of others, to establish himself on 
what was then, as it is in many districts 
still, the virgin soil of the New World. 
Making his home in Pennsylvania, he 
there mairied Miss Elizabeth Spear, 
the daughter of a respectable farmer of 
Adams County. With her he set out 
for Franklin County, on the borders of 
Maryland, then a partially cultivated 
region, Ijuilt a log hut, and made a 
clearing at a spot in the mountains in 
the vicinity of the town of Mercersburg. 
At this place, called Stony Batter, 
James Buchanan, the futui'e President, 
was born April 23, 1V91. When he 
was seven years old, his parents remov- 
ed to Mercerslnirg. Being well infonu- 
ed, and apj)reciating the advantages of 
a good education, they here carefully 
provided for their son's instruction. 
The father had profited by his English 
schooling, and the mother, we are told, 
was distinguished by her strong sense 
and a certain taste for literature, being 
able to repeat from memory striking 



passages in Pope, Cowjier, Milton, and 
other English poets. Her piety is also 
spoken of as a noticeable trait of her cha- 
racter.^ At the age of fourteen, James 
was sufficiently instructed in English 
studies, and the elements of the Greek 
and Latin classics, to enter Dickinson 
College at Carlisle. There he proved a 
ready student, acquitted himself with 
credit, and took a leading part in the 
literary society connected with the col- 
lege. After receiving his degree,in 1809, 
he began the study, of the law with INIr. 
James Hopkins of Lancaster, and three 
years afterwai'ds, on arriving at ago, Avas 
admitted to the bar. He applied him- 
self with diligence to the profession, at 
Lancaster, and early acquired a lucia- 
tive jiractice. In a letter Avritten more 
than thirty years afterwards, when he 
had risen to the position of Secretaiy 
of State, he recalled the occasion of his 
first public speech. It was when in the 
war with Great Britain, Maryland had 
Ijeen invaded, the capital burnt at 
Washington, and Baltimore was threat- 
ened. The country was aroused, and 
Mr. Buchanan addressed his fellow-citi- 
zens at Lancaster, urging upon them 
the duty of volunteering their ser\ ices 
to resist the foe. A volunteer company 



' IIortoQ's Life of Bucbanan, p. Ifi. 



183 




Y/>?^^£^ 




.&!ffr/7ved,7y ; 



^^^^'i'^.i^ 



V ^ssessicfft^ £?/■" ZCJ07zttre^Si/. 



JcxhiiaaTi.'HY ( 



ii . "New YoTlt 



JAMES BUCHAXAN. 



183 



was formed on the spot ; he enlisted in 
it as a private, and proceeded with it 
to Baltimore, where, the danger having 
passed over, it was discharged. He lit- 
tle thought that half a century after- 
wards the region would again be arous- 
ed in a similar manner by the approach 
of a domestic foe, in a civil conflict of 
which his own administration, while he 
was President of the United States, was 
first to feel the shock. In this same 
year, 1814, Mr. Buchanan made his first 
entrance on political life, at the age of 
twenty-three, when he was elected a 
member of the Pennsylvania Legisla- 
ture. On taking his seat he became an 
active supporter of the war measures 
then in progress, counselling stringent 
means of defence, and advocating a loan 
to the General Government to pay the 
militia of the State called into the pub- 
lic service. 

In 1820, Mr. Buchanan took his seat 
in the House of Representatives, and 
continued a member by successive re- 
elections for ten years. This period 
embraced many important public mea- 
sures, in which he took a prominent 
part. He was opposed to a tariff for 
protection, and to a general bankrupt 
law; when John Quincy Adams was 
elected, he f)pposed his favorite project 
of the Panama mission, and gave his 
zealous support to the advancement of 
General Jackson. On that chieftain's 
election to the Presidency, which was 
promoted by his influence in Pennsyl- 
vania, he was placed at the head of the 
Judiciary committee, and was one of 
the five managers chosen by the House 
1»o conduct the prosecution of Judge 
James 11. Peck, of the District Court 



of the United States for Missouri, 
against whom articles of impeachment 
were passed for an undue exercise of 
authority, in silencing and imprisoning 
a lawyer in his court, who had presumed 
to criticise one of his decisions. Judge 
Peck was defended before the Senate 
by William Wirt and Jonathan Meri- 
deth. The case was closed by Mr. 
Buchanan. The result was the pas- 
sage of a law calculated to prevent a 
recurrence of the offence. 

In 1831, Mr. Buchanan received the 
appointment from President Jackson of 
Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Ple- 
nipotentiary to St. Petersburg, and suc- 
ceeded in the object of his mission in 
securing a valuable commercial ti-eaty, 
o|>ening to our merchants important 
piivileges in the Russian waters. On 
his return, in 1833, he was elected to 
the United States Senate, where he 
rendered important partisan services to 
the administration of General Jackson, 
then closely pressed in that body by a 
comVjination of its greatest political 
leaders, Clay, Calhoun, and Webster 
He was always opposed to the agitation 
of the subject of slavery in Congress, 
regarding the discussion of the topic at 
the North as alike injurious to the pros- 
pects of the slave and the integrity of 
the Union. These were his views when 
the right of petition brought the dis- 
cussion before Congress, and he remain 
ed steadily on the side of the South in 
all matters of this nature, where the in- 
stitution was concerned. An ardent 
supporter of President Jackson, he, of 
course, gave his influence in favor of 
the expunging resolutions of Senator 
Benton, which crowned the long list of 



184 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 



Congressiou.ll triumpLs of tlio retiring 
Presiileut. To the mlininistration of 
bis successor, IMr. \'an liiuen, ^Ir. Ru- 
chnnau gave ini])ortant aid in his advo- 
cacy of the cstaMishnient of an inde- 
pendent treasury, and when tliat niea- 
svire >vas tonijiorarily set aside under 
the presidency of General Harrison and 
Tyler, he ^vas urgent in his efforts to 
defeat the banks, or fiscal institutions, 
j)roposed in its place. On all the test 
questions of the Democratic party, Mr. 
Buchanan preserved political consist- 
ency. With one, in paiticidar, he espe- 
cially identified himself — the Annexa- 
tion of Te.xas. He was for immediate 
action on its first introduction into the 
Senate, and when it was afterwards 
adopted, at the close of Tyler's admin- 
istration, he stood aUme in the commit- 
tee on foreifju relations in favor of the 
measure. 

Mr. Polk succeeded to the Presidency 
in 1845, when ^Ir. Buchanan was called 
to his cabinet as Secretary of State. It 
was an imjwrtant era in the foreign 
lelations of the country, when the office 
was no sinecure. The North-Avestern 
Boundary question was to be settled 
w ith England, and on the South-west- 
ern frontier another ditliculty of no 
ordinary magnitude existed, in the 
threatened conflict with Mexico. The 
former was settled on a compromise 
basis, adopting the i)arallel of lati- 
tude of 49° instead of the ultra de- 
mand, insisted upon by certain mem- 
bers of the l)arty, and advocated in an 
elaborate state paper Ijy Mi-. Buchanan 
himself, of 54° 40'. The Government, 
in fact, had become pledged to the lat- 
ter, but (hf tlifliculty was solved by re- 



ferring the matter to the Senate, Avhere 
the compromise line was accepted. The 
Mexican question was of graver resjioji- 
sibility. It Avas met by the administra- 
tion as a war measure, and by the spirit 
and energy of the army of the ctiuntry, 
and the volunteers called to the field, 
was successfully earned through, Avhile 
efforts were constantly made to bring 
the contest to an end by negotiations 
for peace. When the enemy was tho- 
roughly humbled, and his caj)ital gained 
possession of, the latter finally prevail- ■ 
ed. It is to the credit of om- govern- 
ment that the war was conducted in no 
sanguinar}- spirit of cnielty, and that 
its terms of reconciliation, though they 
proved in the end highly advantageous 
to the victors, were, all tilings con>sid- 
ered neither exacting nor humiliatinsr 
to the conquered. 

To the war Avith Mexico succeeded 
the political struggle at home on the 
slavery question, growing out of the 
new increase of ten-itorj-. Mr. Bucha- 
nan, at the close of Mr. Polk's presi- 
dency and the breaking up of the cabi- 
net, had retired to his home in Pennsyl- 
vania, in the neighborhood of Lancas- 
ter. Though out of office, however, his 
interest in politics was not diminished. 
When the contest over the Wilmot Pro- 
viso came up, setting bounds to the ex- 
tension of slavery, he opposed its j)rin- 
ciples, and in his " Harvest-Home Let- 
ter," as it was called, recommended as 
a settlement the basis of the act of 1820, 
and that the Missouri line be extended 
to tlie Pacific. When the Compromise 
Measures of 18.50 Avere adoj^ted, he 
gave them his ajtproval, urging in a let- 
ter which he addressed to a political 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 



185 



committee in Philadelphia, " as the de- 
liberate conviction of his judgment, the 
observance of two things as necessary 
to preserve the Union from danger : 
first, that agitation in the North on the 
subject of southern slavery must be re- 
buked and put down by a strong and 
enlightened public opinion ; and, second, 
that the Fugitive Slave Law must be en- 
forced in its spiiit." There is a passage 
in this letter of interest in relation to 
subsequent events and the futui'e posi- 
tion of the writer. "I now say," he 
\vi'ote, " that the platform of our blessed 
Union is strong enough and broad 
enough to sustain all true-hearted Ame- 
ricans. It is an elevated — it is a glori- 
ous platform, on which the down-trod- 
den nations of the earth gaze with hope 
and desire, witli admiration and aston- 
ishment. Our Union is tlie star of the 
West, whose genial and steadily increas- 
ing influence will at last, should we re- 
main an united people, dispel the gloom 
of despotism from the ancient nations 
of the world. Its moral power will 
prove to be more potent than millions 
of armed mercenaries. And shall this 
glorious star set in darkness before it 
has accomplished half its mission ? 
Heaven forbid ! Let us all exclaim 
with the heroic Jackson, 'The Union 
must and shall be preserved.' 

" And what a Union has this been ! 
The histoiy of the human race presents 
no parallel to it. The bit of striped 
bunting which was to be swept from 
the ocean by a British navy, according 
to the predictions of a British states- 
man, previous to the war of 1812, is 
now displayed on every sea, and in 
every port of the habitable globe. Our 

24 



glorious stars and stripes, the flag of 
our country, now protects Americans in 
every clime. ' I am a Roman citizen !' 
was once the proud exclamation which 
eveiywhere shielded an ancient Roman 
fiom insult and injustice. 'I am an 
American citizen!' is now an exclama- 
tion of almost equal potency throughout 
the civilized world. This is a tribute 
due to the power and resom-ces of these 
thirty-one United States. In a just 
cause, we may defy the world in arms. 
We have lately presented a spectacle 
which has astonished the greatest cap- 
tain of the age. At the call of their 
country, an irresistible host of armed 
men, and men, too, skilled in the use of 
arms, sprung up like the soldiers of 
Cadmus, from the mountains and val- 
leys of our confederacy. The strug- 
gle among them was not who should 
remain at liome, but who should enjoy 
the privilege of enduring the dangers 
and privations of a foreign war in de- 
fence of their country's rights. Heaven 
forbid that the question of slavery 
should ever prove to be the stone 
thrown into their midst by Cadmus, to 
make them turn their arms against 
each other, and die in mutual conflict. 

" The common sufferings and com- 
mon glories of the past, the prosperity 
of the present, and the brilliant hopes 
of the future, must impress every patri- 
otic heart with deep love and devotion 
for the Union. Who that is now a citi- 
zen of this vast Republic, extending 
from the St. Lawrence to the Rio 
Grande, and from the Atlantic to the 
Pacific, does not shudder at the idea of 
being transformed into a citizen of one 
of it« broken, jealous and hostile frag- 



1S6 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 



ments? What patriot haJ not rather 
shed the last drop of his blood, than see 
the thirty-one brilliant stars that now 
float j)roudly upon his country's flag, 
rudely torn from the national banner, 
and scattered in confusion over the face 
of the earth ? 

"Rest assured that all the patriotic 
emotions of every true-heai'ted Pennsyl- 
vanian, in fovor of the Union and Con- 
stitution, are shared by the southern 
people. What battle-field has not been 
illustrated by their gallant deeds ; and 
when, in our history, have they ever 
shrunk from sacrifices and suft'erings in 
the cause of their country? What, 
then, means the muttering thunder 
which we hear from the South ? The 
signs of the times are truly poi'tentous. 
Whilst many in the South openly ad- 
vocate the cause of secession and disun- 
ion, a large majority, as I firmly believe, 
still fondly cling to the Union, await- 
ing with deep anxiety the action of the 
North on the compromise lately eftected 
in Confess. Should this be disrejjard- 
ed and nullified by the citizens of the 
North, the southern people may become 
united, and then farewell, a long fare- 
well to our blessed Union. I am no 
alarmist ; but a brave and wise man 
looks danger steadily in the face. This 
is the best means of avoidine: it. I am 
deei^ly impressed with the conviction 
that the North neither sufficiently un- 
derstands nor appreciates the danger." 

Mr. Buchanan lived in comparative 
retirement at his Lancaster home till, 
on Mr. Pierce being chosen President, 
he was, in 1853, appointed minister to 
England. He accepted the post, and 
was occupied, in the course of its du- 



ties, in a negotiation of the Central 
American question, and also, incident- 
ally, in a discussion respecting the pos- 
session of the island of Cuba. The lat 
ter, known as the Ostend Conference, 
grew out of the design of tlie President 
to purchase the island if possible, from 
Spain, and for this purpose a consulta- 
tion was had in Euroj)e between the 
American Ministers to Spain, France, 
and England, who might aid the under- 
taking by mutual counsel. The history 
of this proceeding is thus given in the 
recent notice of President Buchanan in 
" Ajipleton's Cyclopedia." " Ostend was 
first selected for the place of meeting ; 
but the conferences were subsequently 
adjourned to Aix la Chapelle. The 
American Ministers kept Avi-itten min- 
utes of their proceedings, and of the 
conclusions arrived at, for the purpose 
of future reference, and for the infoi'ma- 
tion of their government at home. 
These minutes were afterwards styled 
a ' protocol,' though they contained no- 
thins but memoranda to be forwarded 
for consideration to the authorities in 
Washington. They were not intended 
to be submitted to a foreign power. 
They contained no proposition, laid 
down no lade of action, and in no man- 
ner whatever interfered w^ith our regu- 
lar diplomatic intercourse. The Presi- 
dent desired to know the opinions of 
our Ministers abroad on a subject which 
deeply concerned the United States, 
and the Iklinisters were bound to furnish 
it to him. Their minutes exhibited the 
importance of the island to the United 
States, in a commercial and strategical 
point of view; the advantages that 
would accrue to Spain from the sale of 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 



187 



it at a fair price, such as the United 
States might be willing to pay for it ; 
the diflSculty which Spam would en- 
counter in endeavoring to keep posses- 
sion of it by mei-e military power ; the 
sympathy of the people of the United 
States with the inhabitants of the island, 
and, finally, the possibility that Spain, 
as a last resort, might endeavor to Afri- 
canize Cuba, and become instrumental 
in the reenacting of the scenes of St. 
Domingo. The American Ministers be- 
lieved that in case Cuba was about to 
be transformed into another St. Do- 
mingo, the example might act pernici- 
ously on the slave population of the 
Southern States of our own confederacy, 
and there excite the blacks to similar 
deeds of violence. In this case, they 
held that the instinct of self-preserva- 
tion would call for the armed interven- 
tion of the United States, and we should 
be justified in wi-esting the island by 
force from Spain." 

Mr. Buchanan returned home in the 
spring of 1856, and in the following 
summer received the nomination for the 
Presidency from the Democratic con- 
vention which met at Cincinnati. In 
the contest which ensued with Colonel 
Fremont, the candidate of the new Re- 
publican party, he was elected Presi- 
dent of the United States by the vote 
of nineteen out of thirty-one States. 
The popular vote was, for Buchanan, 
1,803,029; for Fremont, 1,342,164; for 
Fillmore, 874,625. The main interest 
of Mr. Buchanan's administration cen- 
tered in the discussion of the control of 
the territories in reference to the intro- 
duction of slavery. The ominous agi- 
tations regarding Kansas, itself the the- 



atre of bloody conflict, employed much 
of this period. At the close of Mr. Bu- 
chanan's term, the clouds which had 
been gath^png since its commencement 
broke in the storm of war. The elec- 
tion of his successor, Mr. Lincoln, the 
candidate of the Rejiublican party, was 
followed by secession in the Southern 
States, and there was no weaj^on in the 
hands of Mr. Buchanan powerful enough 
to arrest the rebellion. lie spoke en- 
treatingly, persuasively, in favor of the 
preservation of the Union; but the 
South, whose interests he had so long 
served, was deaf to his appeals. 

His concluding annual message, at 
the opening of Congress in December, 
1860, was full of despondency, the con- 
sciously vain effort of a disappointed 
statesman to resist the overwhelminsr 
tide which was approaching. The South 
had placed itself in an attitude of 
threatened opposition to the inaugura- 
tion of President Lincoln. President 
Buchanan, with a certain simplicity, re- 
minded the disaffected that " the elec- 
tion of any one of our fellow-citizens to 
the office of President, does not of itself 
afford just cause for dissolving the 
Union ;" adding, " this is more especially 
true if his election has been efl^ected by 
a mere plurality, and not a majority of 
the people, and has resulted from tran- 
sient and temporary causes which may 
probably never again occur. In order 
to justify a resort to revolutionary re- 
sistance, the Federal Government must 
be guilty of a deliberate, palpable, and 
dangerous exercise of powers not grant- 
ed l)y the Constitution. The late Pre- 
sidential election, however, has been 
held in strict conformity with its ex- 



188 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 



press provisions. How, then, can the 
result justify a revolution to destroy 
this very Constitution? lleason, jus- 
tice, a regard for the Conlflitution, all 
require that we shall wait for some 
overt and dangerous act on the part of 
the President elect, hefore resorting to 
such a remedy. * * After all, he is no 
more than the chief executive officer of 
the government. His province is not 
to make, but to execute the laws ; and 
it is a remarkable foct in our history 
that, notwithstanding the repeated ef- 
forts of the anti-slaveiy party, no single 
act has ever passed Congress, unless we 
may possibly except the Missouri Com- 
promise, impairing in the slightest de- 
gree the rights of the South to their 
property in slaves. And it may also 
be observed, judging from present indi- 
cations, that no ])robability exists of the 
passage of such aii act by a majority of 
both Houses, either in the present or 
the next Congress. Surely, under these 
circumstances, we ought to be restrained 
from present action l)y the prece2)t of 
Him who spake as never man s])ake, 
that ' sufficient unto the day is the evil 
thereof.' The day of evil may never 
come, unless we shall rashly l)ring it 
upon ourselves." After presenting other 
considerations showini' how little dan- 
ger there really existed for apprehen- 
sion on the part of the South, he turned 
to an examination of the doctrine of Se- 
cession as it was openly advocated by a 
large class of disaffected politicians. " In 
order," said he, " to justify secession as 
a Constitutional remedy, it must be on 
the priucii>le that the Federal droveru- 
meiit is a mere voluntary association of 
States, to be disolved at pleasure by 



any one of the contracting parties. If 
this be so, the confederacy is a rope of 
sand, to be penetrated and dissf)lved by 
the first adveree wave of public opinion 
in any of the States. In this manner 
our thirty-three States may resolve 
themselves into so many petty, jarring, 
and hostile republics, each one retii-ing 
from the Union without responsiV)ility, 
whenever any sudden excitement might 
impel them to such a course. By this 
process, a Union might l>e entirely bro- 
ken into fi'agments in a few weeks, which 
cost our forefiithers many years of toil, 
privation, and blood to establish." He 
further supported the obvious doctrine 
of the paramount authority of the 
Union by references to the opinions of 
Madison and Jackson, and a deduction 
from the express provisions of the Con- 
stitution. "This Government," he con- 
cluded, "is a great and powerful Gov 
ernment, invested with all the attributes 
of sovereignty over the special subjects 
to Avhich its authority extends. Its 
framers never intended to implant in its 
bosom the seeds of its own destruction, 
nor were they at its creation guilty of 
the absurdity of providing for its own 
dissolution. It was not intended by its 
framers to be the baseless fabric of a 
vision which, at the touch of the en- 
chanter, would vanish into thin air ; but 
a substantial and mighty fabric, cajia- 
ble of resisting the slow decay of time, 
and of defying the storms of ages. In- 
deed, well may the jealous patriots of 
that day have indulged fears that a 
government of such high powers might 
violate the reserved rights of the States, 
and wisely did they adopt the rule of a 
strict construction of these powers to 



JAMES BUCHANAN. 



189 



prevent tlie danger. But they did not 
fear, nor had they any reason to ima- 
gine, that the Constitution would ever 
be so interpreted as to enable any 
State, by her own act, and without the 
consent of her sister States, to discharge 
her people from all or any of their Fed- 
eral obligations. It may be asked, 
then, are the people of the States with- 
out redress against the tyranny and 
oppression of the Federal Government ? 
By no means. The right of resistance 
on the part of the governed against the 
opj^ression of their governments cannot 
be denied. It exists independently of 
all constitutions, and has been exercised 
at all periods of the world's histoiy. 
Under it old governments have been 
destroyed, and new ones have taken 
their place. It is embodied in strong 
and exjiress language in our own Decla- 
ration of Independence. But the dis. 
tinction must ever be observed, that 
this is revolution against estal)lished 
government, and not a voluntary seces- 
sion from it by virtue of an inherent 
constitutional right. In short, let us 
look the danger fairly in the fece : seces- 
sion is neither more nor less than revo. 
lution. It may or it may not be a jus- 
tifiable revolution, but still it is revolu- 
tion." 

Having' thus established the lecral in- 
ability of a State to withdraw from the 
confederacy at will, he proceeded to dis- 
cuss the " responsibility and ti*ue posi- 
tion of the Executive" under the cir- 
cumstances. His duty was, according 
to the words of his oath, " to take care 
that the laws be feithfully executed." 
The administration of justice by the 
Federal judiciary naturally first present- 



ed itself; but in South Carolina he 
found this was now impracticable. The 
officers of justice in that State had re- 
signed, the whole machinery of the 
courts had been broken up, and " it 
would be difficult, if not impossil)le, to 
replace it." The revenue, indeed, still 
continued to be collected in the State, 
and as for the public property in the 
forts, magazines, arsenals, etc., the belief 
was expressed that n-o attempt would 
be made to expel the United States 
from its possession ; " but if in this I 
should prove to be mistaken," said the 
President, " the officer in command of the 
forts has received orders to act strictly 
on the defensive. In such a contin- 
gency, the responsibility for conse- 
quences would rightfully rest upon the 
heads of the assailants." 

The mere mention of such points was 
ominous of war, and the President per 
ceived the tendency. He felt the diffi 
culties of his situation and submitted 
them to Congress. In doing this, how- 
ever, he added to his argument against 
secession another, denying to that body 
the possession of any power under the 
Constitution "to coerce a State into 
submission which is attempting to with- 
draw, or has actually withdrawn from 
the confederacy." His conclusion on 
this subject was this : — " The power to 
make war against a State is at variance 
with the whole spirit and intent of the 
Constitution. Suppose (he added), such 
a war should result in the conquest 
of a State, how are we to govern it 
afterwards 1 Shall we hold it as a 
province, and govern it by despotic 
power ? . . . The fact is, that our 
Union rests upon public opinion and 



190 



JAMES BUCHAIfAN. 



can never be cemented by the blood 
of its citizens shed in civil war. If 
it cannot live in the atloctious of the 
people, it must one day perish. Con- 
gress possesses many means of preserv- 
ing it by conciliation ; but the sword 
was not placed in their hands to pre- 
serve it by force." 

As an escape fi'om this threatened 
evil of secession, President Buchanan 
recommended that an amendment of the 
Constitution should be adopted, initia- 
ted either by Congress or the State Le- 
gislatures, according to the provisions 
of that instnunent, " contined to the 
final settlement of the true construction 
of the Constitution on three special 
points : — 1st. An express recognition 
of the right of property in slaves in the 
States where it now exists or may here- 
after exist. 2d. The duty of protecting 
this right in all the common Territories 
throughout their territorial existence, 
and until they shall be admitted as 
States into the Union, with or without 
slavery, as their Constitutions may pre- 
scribe, 3d. A like recognition of the 
right of the master to have his slave, 
who has escaped from one State to an- 
ther, restored and ' delivered up ' to 
him, and of the validity of the Fugitive 
Slave Law enacted for this purpose, 
together with a declaration that all 
State laws impairing or defeating this 
right are violations of the Constitution, 
anil are conseqxieutly null and void." 

Such was the attitude of President 
Buchanan in sight of the impending re- 
volution, and such the suggestions which 
he made to resist its progress. The cri- 
sis which had arrived, beyond the con- 
trol of palliatives, was destined to shat- 
ter his political creed. 



Beset with doubts and difficulties, 
but true to the plain duty before him, 
he incurred the censure of the Commis- 
sioners sent to "Washington from South 
Carolina, by his resistance to their de- 
mand of the withdrawal of i^Iajor An- 
derson and his command from Fort 
Sumter. 

The war which he feared was now 
inevitable, and preparations, at last, 
were to be made to meet it. Deserted 
by his old Southern friends in Con- 
gress, and even in his cabinet, President 
Buchanan summoned to his aid new 
counsellors like Scott, Dix, Stanton, 
Holt, and others whose patriotism re- 
deemed the last days of his administra- 
tion. In weakness, sorrow, almost in 
despair of the future of his country, he 
assisted at the inauguration of his suc- 
cessor, and left Washington for the re- 
tirement of his home in Pennsylvania. 

There his days were passed in com- 
parative seclusion during the four years 
of the national warf!U"e for the preser- 
vation of the L^nion, while his leisure 
was employed in the preparation of a 
work, a re\ iew of the rise and j)rogress 
of the anti-slavery agitation and a vin- 
dication of the conduct of his adminis- 
tration of the Presidency. Under the 
new order of affaii"s which followed the 
successful termination of the wai", the 
publication of this book attracted little 
attention. He did not long survive. Af 
ter a brief illness he met death with 
Christian resignation at Wheatland, on 
the morning of the first day of June, 
18GS. His funeral at Lancaster was 
largely attended, without distinction 
of party, and the usual public honoi-s 
were paid to his memory. 



ABRAHAM LINCOLiN. 



Abraham Lincoln was born Feb- 
ruary 12tli, 1809, in a district of Har- 
din County, now included in Lraue 
County, Kentucky. His father and 
grandfather, spning ft'om a Quaker 
family in Pennsylvania, were bom in 
Kockingham County, Virginia. Thence 
the grandfather, Abraham Lincoln, re- 
moved to Kentucky, where, encounter- 
ing the fortunes of the first settlers, he 
was slain by the Indians, about the 
year 1784. His third and youngest son, 
Thomas, brought up to a life of rude 
country industry, in 1806 mamed Nancy 
Hanks, of Kentucky, a native of Virgin- 
ia, so that the blood of Abraham Lin- 
coln is directly traceable to the Old Do- 
minion — the mother of Presidents. 

The parents, it is said, partly on 
account of slavery, partly on account 
of the disputed Kentucky land titles, 
removed to a new forest home, in what 
J3 now Spencer County, Indiana, when 
their son Abraham was in his eighth 
year. The task before the settlers was 
the clearing of the farm in the wilder- 
ness; and in this labor and its inci- 
dents of hunting and agriciiltural toils 
the rugged boy grew up to manhood, 
receiving such elementary instruction 
as the occasional schoolmasters of the 
region afforded. Taken altogether, it 
was very little — for the time which he 



attended schools of any kind, was in 
the whole.less than a year. His know- 
ledge fi'om books was to be worked out 
solely by himself; the vigorous life 
around him and rough experience were 
to teach him the rest. His first adven- 
ture in the world was at the age of 
nineteen, when hired as an assistant to 
a son of the owner, the two, without 
other aid, navigated a flat boat to New 
Orleans, trading by the way — an ex- 
cursion on which more might be learnt 
of human nature than in a year at col- 
lege. At twenty-one, he followed his 
father, who had now married a second 
time, to a new settlement in Macon 
County, Illinois, where a log cabin was 
built by the family, and the land fenced 
in by rails, vigorously and abundantly 
split by the stalwart Abraham. 

The rail-splitter of Illinois was yet to 
be summoned to a fiercer conflict. To 
build a flat-boat was no great change 
of occupation for one so familiar with 
the axe. He was engaged in this work 
on the Sangamon River, and in taking 
the craft afterward to New Orleans, 
serving on his return as clerk in charge 
of a store and mill at New Salem, be- 
longing to his employer. The breaking 
out of the Black-Hawk war in Illinois, 
1832, gave him new and more 



in 



spirited occupation. He joined a vo- 

191 



192 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 



liinteor company, was elected captain, 
Ben-ed through a throe months' cam- 
paign, ami was in due time rewarded 
by his share of bounty lands in Iowa. 
A popular man in his neighborhood, 
doubtless from his energy, sagacity, 
humor, and innate benevolence of dis- 
position, admirably qualifying him as a 
representative of the West, or of human 
nature in its better condition anywhere, 
he was, on retm-n from the war, set up 
as a Whig candidate for the Legisla- 
ture, in which he was beaten in the 
district, though his own precinct, demo- 
cratic as it too was, gave him 277 out 
of 284 votes. Unsettled, and on the 
lookout for occupation in the worhl, he 
now again fell in charge of a country 
store at New Salem, over the counter 
of which he gained knowledge of men, 
but little pecuniaiy profit. The store, 
in fiict, was a failure, but the man was 
not He had doubtless chopped logic, 
as heretofore timber, with his neigh- 
bors, and democrats had felt the edge 
of his argument. Some confidence of 
this nature led him to think of the law 
as a profession. Working out his jtrob- 
lem of self-education, he would borrow 
a few books from a la^\'J*er of the vil- 
lage in the evening, read them at 
night, and return them in the morning. 
A turn at official sm-veying in the 
county meanwhile, by its emoluments, 
assisted him to live. In 1834, he was 
elected, l)y a large vote to the Legisla- 
ture, and again in 1836, '38, and '40. 
In 1836, he was admitted to the bar, 
and the following year commenced 
practice at Springfield, with his fellow- 
representative in the Legislature, Major 
John F. Stuart. He rapidly accpiired 



a reputation by his success in jury 
trials, in which he cleared up difiicul- 
ties with a sagacious, ready humor, and 
a large and growing stock of apj)osito 
familiar illustrations. Politics and the 
bar, as usual in the West, in his case 
also went together; a staunch sup- 
porter of Whig j)rinciples in the midst 
of the democracy, he canvassed the 
State for Henry Clay in 1844, making 
numerous speeches of signal ability, 
and in 1846, was elected to Congress 
from the central district of Illinois. 
During his term he was distinguished 
by his advocac)' of free soil ]>rinciple9, 
voting in favor of the right of petition, 
and steadily supporting the Wilmot 
proviso prohibiting slavery in the new 
territories. He also proposed a plan 
of compensated emanci])ation, with the 
consent of a majority of the owners, for 
the District of Columbia. A member 
of the Whig National Convention of 
1848, he suj)ported the nomination of 
General Taylor for the Presidency, in 
an active canvass of Illinois and In- 
diana. In 1856, he was recommended 
by the Illinois delegation as a candidate 
for the Vice Presidency, on the Repub- 
lican ticket with Colonel Fremont. In 
1858, he was nominated as candidate 
for United States Senator in opposition 
to Stej)hen A. Douglas, and " took the 
stump " in joint debate ^y\t]l that pow- 
erful antagonist of the Democratic 
])arty, delivering a series of speeches 
during the summer and autumn, in the 
chief towns and cities of the State. In 
the first of these addresses to the Re- 
publican State Convention at Spring- 
field, June 17 th, he uttered a me- 
morable declaration on the subject 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 



193 



of slavery, much quoted in the stirnng 
conti'Dversies which afterwards ensued. 
" We are now," said he, " far into the 
fiCtli year since a policy was initiated 
with the avowed oljject, and confident 
promise of putting an end to slavery 
agitations. Under the operation of that 
policy, that agitation has not only not 
ceased, hut has constantly augmented. 
In my opinion, it will not cease until 
a crisis shall have been reached and 
passed. 'A house divided against itself 
cannot stand.' I believe this govern- 
ment cannot endure pemianently, half 
slave and half free. I do not e.xpect the 
Union to be dissolved — I do not expect 
the house io fall ; but I do expect it 
will cease to be divided. It will be- 
come all one thing or all the other." 

Other opinions expressed by him in 
this political campaign, while they ex- 
hibited him as no friend to slavery, 
placed him on the ground of a constitu- 
tional opposition to the institution. In 
answer to a series of questions pro- 
posed by Mr. Douglas, he replied that 
he was not in favor of the unconditional 
repeal of the fugitive slave law; that 
he was not pledged against the admis- 
sion of any more slave States into the 
Union, nor to the admission of a new 
State into the Union with such a con- 
stitution as the people of that State 
may see fit to make, nor to the abo- 
lition of slavery in the District of 
Columbia, nor to the prohibition of the 
slave trade between the different States; 
while he was "impliedly, if not ex- 
pressly, pledged to a belief in the 
right and duty of Congress to prohibit 
slavery in all the United States Terri- 
tories." With regard to the acquisition 



of any new tenitory, unless slavery ia 
first prohibited therein, he answered: 
" I am not generally o]>posed to honest 
acquisition of teiritoiy ; and in any 
given case, I would or would not op- 
pose such acquisition, accordingly as I 
might think it would or would not 
aggravate the slavery question among 
ourselves." Mr. Lincoln, in fine, while 
he held the firmest o]>iiiion3 on the 
evil of slavery as an institution, and its 
detriment to the prosperity of the 
country, was not disj)osed to transcend 
the principles or pledges of the Consti- 
tution for its suppression. He would 
not, without regard to circumstances, 
press even the legitimate powers of 
Congress. Of the vexed negro question, 
he said further, on a particular occa- 
sion in those debates : " I have no pur- 
pose, directly or indirectly, to interfere 
with the institution of slavery in the 
States where it now exists. I believe 
I have no lawful right to do so, and I 
have no inclination to do so. I have 
no pui-pose to introduce political and 
social equality between the white and 
the black races. There is a physical 
difi^erence between the two, which, in 
my judgment, will probably forever 
forbid their living together upon the 
footing of jteifect equality, and inas- 
much as 'it becomes a necessity that 
there must be a dift'erence, I, as well as 
Judge Douglas, am in favor of the race 
to which I Ijelong having the superior 
position. I have never said anything 
to the contrary ; but I hold that, not- 
withstanding all this, there is no reason 
in the world why the negro is not en 
titled to all the natural rights enu 
merated in the Declaration of lude- 



104 



ABPxAlIAM LINCOLN. 



pomlonoe— the right to life, libeity, 
and the pursuit of hnppinoss. I hokl 
that he is as luuch entitlod to those as 
the white man. 1 agree with Judge 
Doughis he is not my ecjual in many 
resj)eets — certainly not in color, per- 
liaps not in moral or intellectual en- 
dowment. But in the right to eat the 
bread, without the leave of any one 
else, which his own hand earns, he is my 
equal, and the equal of Judge Douglas, 
and the equal of eveiy living man." 

This contested Douglas and Lincoln 
election in Illinois ended in the choice 
of a Li'gislature which sent the former 
to the Uniteil States Senate, though 
the Republican candidates pledged to 
]\Ir. Lincoln received a larger aggregate 
vote. 

Mr. IJncoln, now a prominent man in 
the West, was looked to by the rapidly 
developing Republican party as a lead- 
ing expounder of its princi)>lcs in that 
i-egion. In the autunui and wint<?r of 
1859, he visited various pjirts of the 
country, delivering lectures on the poli- 
tical aspect of the times, and was con- 
stantly recoive<l with favor. In a speech 
which he made, addressing a mixed as- 
sembly at Leavenworth, in Kansas, in 
this season, tlie following passage oc- 
curred, which, read by the lijjht of sub- 
se(|uent events, appeal's strangely pro- 
phetic. " But you. Democrats," said 
he, " are for the Union ; and you greatly 
fear the success of the Republicans 
would destroy the Union. "Why ? Do 
the Republicans declare against the 
Union ? Nothing like it. Your own 
statement of it is, that if the Black 
Republicans elect a President, you 
uont iiaiul it.' You will break up 



the Union. That will be your act, ni>t 
oui-s. To justify it, you must sho^v 
that our policy gives you just cause for 
such desperate action. Can you do 
that? When you attempt it, you will 
find that our policy is exactly the policy 
of the men who made the Union. 
Nothing more and nothing less. Do you 
really think you are justified to break 
up the government rather than have 
it administered as it was by Washing- 
ton, and other great and good men who 
made it, and first administered it I If 
you do, you are very unreasonable, and 
more reasonable men cannot and will 
not submit to you. While you elect 
Presidents we submit, neither break- 
ing nor attempting to break u]> the 
Union. If we shall constitutionally 
elect a President, it will be our duty to 
see that you also submit. Old John 
Brown has been executed for trejisou 
against a State. We cannot object, 
even though he agreed with us in 
thinking slavery wrong. That cannot 
excuse violence, bloodshed, and trea- 
son. It coidd avail him nothing that 
he might think himself right. So, if 
constitutitmally we elect a President, 
and, therefore, you undertake to de- 
stroy the Union, it will be our dixty to 
deal with you as old John Brown has 
been dealt with. We shall try to do 
our duty. We hope and believe that 
in no section will a majority so act as 
to render such extreme measures neces- 
sary." 

In the ensuing nomination, in ISOO, 
for the Presidency, by the National 
Republican Convention at Chicago, Mr. 
Lincoln, on the third ballot, was pre- 
ftiretl to Mr. Seward I'y a decided 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 



195 



vote, and placed before the countiy as 
tlie candidate of tlie Republican free- 
soil party. He had three rivals in the 
field: Breckinridge, representing the 
old Southern pro-slavery Democratic 
party; Douglas, its new, "popular 
sovereignty" modification; Bell, a res- 
pectable, cautious conservatism. In 
the election, of the entire popular vote, 
4,062,170, Mr. Lincoln received 1,857,- 
610; Mr. Douglas, 1,365,976; Mr. 
Breckinridge, 847,953; and Mr. Bell, 
590,631. Every free State except New 
Jersey, where the vote was divided, 
voted for Lincoln, giving him seventeen 
out of the thirty-three States which 
then composed the Union. In nine of 
the slave States, besides South Carolina, 
1)6 had no electoral ticket. Alabama, 
Arkansas, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, 
Louisiana, Mai-yland, Mississipj^i, North 
and South Carolina, Texas, cast their 
votes for Breckinrid<z:e and Lane, 72 ; 
for Bell and Everett, 39 ; for Douglas 
and Johnson, 12. 

The " Platform " or series of resolu- 
tions of the lle])ublican Convention by 
Avhich Mr. Lincoln was nominated for 
the Presidency, were explicit on the 
principles and objects of the party. 
The highest devotion was expressed for 
the Union, with a political instinct 
seemingly prescient of the futui'e. It 
was declared that " to the Union of the 
States this nation owes its unprece- 
dented increase in po2)ulation ; its sur- 
prising development of material re- 
sources; its rapid augmentation of 
wealth ; its happiness at home, and its 
honor abroad; and we hold in abhor- 
rence all schemes for disunion, come 
t'lom whatever source they may; and 



we eongi-atulate the country that no 
Eepublican member of Congress has 
uttered or countenanced a threat of dis- 
union, so often made by Democratic 
members of Congress without rebuke, 
and with applause from their political 
associates; and we denounce those 
threats of disunion, in case of a popu- 
lar overthrow of their ascendency, as 
denying the vital principles of a free 
government, and as an avowal of con- 
templated treason, which it is the im- 
perative duty of an indignant people 
strongly to rebuke and forever silence. 

The " maintenance in\aolate of the 
rights of the States, and especially of 
each State to order and control its own 
domestic institutions according to its 
own judgment exclusively," was de- 
clared to be essential to "that balance 
of power on which the perfection and en- 
durance of our political faith depends," 
and " the lawless invasion by armed 
force of any State or Territoi-y, no mat- 
ter under what pretext," was denounced 
"as among the gravest of crimes." 
The existing Democratic administra- 
tion was arraigned for its " measureless 
subserviency to the exactions of a sec- 
tional interest, as is especially evident 
in its desperate exertions to force the 
infamous Lecompton Constitution upon 
the protesting peojjle of Kansas — in 
construing the personal relation be- 
tween master and servant to involve an 
unqualified property in persons — in its 
attempted enforcement everywhere, on 
land and sea, through the intervention 
of Congress and the Federal Courts, of 
the extreme pretensions of a purely 
local interest." 

The principles of the party in regard 



196 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 



to slavery in the Territoi-ies, -were laid 
down in the declarations "that the 
new dogma that the Constitution, of its 
own force, carries slavery into any or 
all the Territories of the United States, 
is a dangerous political heresy, at 
variance with the e.\j)licit provisions 
of that instrument itself, Avith contem- 
poraneous expositions, and with legis- 
lative and judicial precedent ; is revolu- 
tionary in its tendency, and subversive 
of the peace and harmony of the coun- 
try :" and " that the normal condition 
of all the territory of the United 
States is that of freedom ; that as our 
republican fathers, when they had 
abolished slaveiy in all our national 
territory, ordained that no person 
should be deprived of life, liberty, or 
property, without the process of law, it 
becomes our tluty, by legislation, when- 
eTer such legislation is necessary, to 
maintain this provision of the Consti- 
tution against all attempts to violate 
it ; and we deny the authority of Con- 
gress, of a territorial legislature, or of 
any individuals, to give legal existence 
to slavery in any territory of the United 
States." 

Such Avere the declarations iinder 
which Mr. Lincoln was elected to the 
Presidency. The legitimate influence 
of the Government, it was designed, 
should be exerted to give every fair 
opportunity for the development of 
liberty, and not, as was charged upon 
the Democrats, for its forced suppres- 
sion. For the maintenance of these 
views, it was admitted l>y all who were 
ac(|uainted with him, that a man of 
singular plainness and sincerity of char- 
acter had been chosen for the chief 



magistracy. " He is possessed," wrote 
an intelligent ol)serverwlio had studied 
his disposition in his home in Illinois, 
" of all the elements composing a true 
western man, and his purity of charac- 
ter and indubitable integrity of purpose 
add resj)ect to admiration for his j)ri- 
vate and i)ublic life. His vrord 'you 
may believe and pawn your soul upon 
it.' It is this sterling honesty (with 
utter fearlessness) even beyond his vast 
ability and political sagacity, that is to 
command confidence in his administra- 
tion." 

In February, 1861, Mr. Lincoln left 
his home at S])ringfield, on his way, by 
a circuitous route through the northern 
States, to Washington. His journey at 
the start Avas impressed with the pecu- 
liar resjionsibility of his new position. 
A defeated party, supported by the 
haughty pretensions and demands of 
the South, which even then stood in an 
attitude of armed rebellion, was deter- 
mined to place eveiy olxstacle in his 
way which the malignity of disap- 
pointed political ambition could sug- 
gest. He felt that a crisis was at hand 
requiring the most consummate piu- 
dence and })olitical wisdom in the guid- 
ance of the Ship of State. In taking 
farewell of his friends at the railway 
station, at Springfield, he said Avith fer- 
vor, " no one not in my position can 
ai)preciate the sadness I feel at this 
parting. To this people I owe all that 
I am. Here I have lived more than a 
quarter of a centuiy ; here my children 
Avere born, and here one of them lies 
buried. I know not how soon I shall 
see you again. A duty devolves upon 
me which is, perhaps, greater than that 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 



197 



whicli Las devolved upon any other 
man since the days of Washington. He 
never would have succeeded except for 
the aid of Divine Providence, upon 
which he at all times relied. I feel that 
[ cannot succeed without the same 
Divine aid which sustained him ; and 
in the same Almighty Being I place my 
reliance for support, and I hope you, 
my friends, will all pray that I may 
receive that Divine assistance, without 
which I cannot succeed, V)ut with which 
success is certain. Again I bid you all 
an affectionate farewell." 

With this feeling of religious earnest- 
ness, Mr. Lincoln, who did not over- 
estimate the importance of his position^ 
set his face towards Washington. At 
every stage on the journey he took the 
opportunity, when he was called upon 
to speak, by the citizens, to express his 
determination to use his influence and 
authority equitably for the interests of 
the nation, without infringement on 
the rights of any. " We mean to treat 
you," he said at Cincinnati, to an au- 
dience in which, we may suppose, the 
Democratic party was liberally repre- 
sented, " as near as we possibly can as 
Washington, Jefferson, and Madison 
treated you. We mean to leave you 
alone, and in no way to interfere with 
your institutions ; to abide by all and 
every compromise of the Constitution, 
and in a word, coming back to the 
original proposition ; to treat you so far 
as degenerate men, if we have dege- 
nerated, may, according to the example 
of those noble fathers, Washington, 
Jefterson, and Madison." On the same 
day, the 12th of February, in another 
speech at Indianapolis, he alluded to 



the question then pressing upon the 
country for early solution regarding 
the maintenance of the national autho- 
rity in a rebellious State, by force, if it 
should be necessary. An outcry had 
been raised against the " coercion " of 
a State? He saw in the clamor, a 
specious mask favoring a desperate 
political intrigue which threatened the 
life of the nation, and he sought to strip 
off" the disguise that the reality beneath 
might be seen. Would it he " coercion," 
he asked, if the United States should 
retake its own forts, and collect the 
duties on foreign importations. Do 
those who would resist coercion resist 
this ? " If so their idea of the means 
to preserve the object of their great 
affection would seem to be exceedingly 
thin and airy. If sick, the little pills 
of the homceopathist would be much 
too large for them to swallow. In their 
view, the Union, as a family relation, 
would seem to be no regular maniage. 
but rather a sort of free love arrange- 
ment, to be maintained on passional 
attraction." 

Eveiywhere on his journey he was 
received with enthusiasm. At New 
York he was greeted by the Mayor and 
citizens at the City Hall ; and at Phila- 
delphia, on Washington's birthday, he 
assisted in raising the national flag on 
Independence Hall. In a few remarks 
on the latter occasion, he spoke feel- 
ingly, with a certain impression of me. 
lancholy, of the great American prin- 
ciple at stake, promising to the world 
" that in due time, the weight should 
be lifted from the shoulders of all 
men ;" adding, " if the country cannot 
be saved without giving up that priu- 



198 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 



ciplo, I was ahoiit to say, I would 
rather ])0 assassinated on this spot than 
surrender it." The word " assassination " 
was aftenvards noticed when, a day or 
two hitor, it was found that the Pi-esi- 
dent, warned of a plot to take his life 
on Lis way to Washington, had felt 
compelled, by the advice of his friends, 
to hasten his journey l>y an extra train 
at night, to the capital, and thus baflle 
the consj)irators. lie had been made 
acquainted with the scheme on his ar- 
rival at Philadelphia, by the police; 
and it was after this intimation had 
been received by him that he spoke at 
Independence Hall. lie then pro- 
ceeded to keep an appointment with 
the Pennsylvania Legislature, at ITar- 
risburg, whom he met on the after- 
noon of the same day. At night he 
quietly returned by rail to Philadel- 
phiji, and thence to Washington, an'iv- 
ing there early on the morning of the 
twenty-third. 

Ten days after, his inauguration as 
President took place at the Capitol. 
The usual ceremonies were observed ; 
but in addition. General Scott had pro- 
vided a trained military force which 
was at hand to sui>press any attemj)t 
which might be made to interrapt 
them. Happily its interference was not 
called for. The inaugural address of 
the President was every way conside- 
rate and conservative. He renewed 
the declarations he had already made, 
that he had no intention to interfere 
with the institution of slavery in the 
States where it exists, adding, " I be- 
lieve I have no lawful right to do so, 
and I have no inclination to do so." 
In a brief argument he asserted the 



perpetuity of the Union. " It is safe 
to assert," he said, " that no govern- 
ment proper ever had a provision in 
its organic law for its own termination. 
Continue to execute all the express 
jirovisions of our national Constitution, 
and the Union will endure forever, it 
being impossible to destroy it, except 
by some action not provided for in the 
instnunent itself" He therefore an- 
nounced his intention, as in duty bound 
by the terms of his oath, to maintain 
it. " I shall take care," said he, " as 
the Constitution itself expressly enjoins 
upon me, that the laws of the Union 
shall be foithfully executed in all the 
States. Doing this, which I deem to 
be only a simple duty on my part, I 
shall perfectly perform it, so far as is 
practicable, unless my rightful masters, 
the American people, shall withhold 
the requisition, or in some authorita- 
tive manner direct the contrary. I 
trust this will not be ree^arded as a 
menace, but only as the declared pur- 
pose of the Union, that it will consti- 
tutionally defend and maintain itself. 
In doing this there iieed be no blood- 
shetl or violence, and there shall be 
none unless it is forced upon the na- 
tional authority. The power confided 
to me will be used to hold, occupy and 
possess the property and places belong- 
ing to the Government, and collect the 
duties and imposts ; but beyond what 
may be necessary for these objects there 
will be no invasion, no using of force 
against or among the people anywhere. 
Where hostility to the United States 
shall be so great and sp universal as to 
prevent competent resident citizens 
fi-om holding the federal offices, there 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 



199 



will be no attempt to force obnoxious 
strangers among the people who object. 
While the strict legal right may exist 
of the Government to enforce the ex- 
ercise of the offices, the attempt to do 
BO would be so in-itating, and so nearly 
impracticable withal, that I deem it 
better to forego for the time the uses 
of such offices. The mails, unless re- 
pelled, will continue to be furnished in 
all parts of the Union. So far as pos- 
sible, the people everywhere shall have 
that sense of perfect security, which is 
most favorable to calm thought and 
reflection. The course here indicated 
will be followed, unless current events 
and experience shall show a modifica- 
tion or change to be projjer, and in 
every case and exigency my best 
discretion will be exercised according 
to the circumstances actually existing, 
and with a view and hope of a peaceful 
solution of the national troubles and 
the restoration of fraternal sympathies 
and afifections." 

This disposition to effect a peaceful 
settlement of the existing difficulty Avas 
further shown in an earnest expostula- 
tion or plea for the preservation of the 
endangered Union, and the admission 
or declaration that " if a change in the 
Constitution to secure this result should 
be thought desirable by the people, he 
would favor, rather than oppose a fair 
opportunity to act upon it." He had 
no objection, he said, that a proposed 
amendment introduced into Congress 
" to the effect that the Federal Govern- 
ment shall never interfere with the 
domestic institutions of States, includ- 
ing that of persons held to service," 



should be made " express and utcvo- 
cable." 

" My countrymen," he concluded, 
" my countiymen, one and all, think 
calmly and well upon this whole sub- 
ject. Nothing valuable can be lost by 
taking time. K there be an object to 
huiTy any of you, in hot haste, to a 
step which you would never take deli- 
berately, that object mil be frustrated 
by taking time; but no good object 
can be fnistrated by it. Such of you 
as are now dissatisfied still have the 
old Constitution unimpaired, and on the 
sensitive point the laws of your own 
framing under it ; while the new ad- 
ministration wiU have no immediate 
power, if it would, to change either. If 
it were admitted that you who are dis- 
satisfied hold the right side in the dis- 
pute, there is stiU no single reason for 
precipitate action. Intelligence, patriot- 
ism, Christianity, and a firm reliance on 
Him who has never yet forsaken this 
favored land, are stiU competent to 
adjust, in the best way, all our present 
difficulties. In your hands, my dis- 
satisfied fellow-countrymen, and not in 
mine, is the momentous issue of civil 
war. The Government will not assail 
you. You can have no conflict without 
being yourselves the aggressors. You 
have no oath registered in Heaven to 
destroy the Government ; while I shah 
have the most solemn one to ' pre- 
serve, protect, and defend' it. I am 
loath to close. We are not enemies, 
but friends. We must not be enemies. 
Though passion may have strained, 
it must not break our bonds of affec- 
tion. The mystic chords of memory, 



200 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 



stretching from every battle-field and 
patriot grave to every living heart and 
hearthstone all over this broad land, 
will yet swell the chorus of the Union, 
when again touched, as surely they will 
be, by the better angels of our nature." 
In this spirit, the President commen- 
ced his administration. In the folh^Aving 
month the bombardment of Fort Sumter, 
by the South Carolinians under General 
Beauregard, " inaugurated" the war. On 
receipt of the news of its fall. President 
Lincoln, on the 15th of April, issued 
his proclamation calling for seventy-five 
thousand militia, to suppress the combi- 
nations opposing the laws of the United 
States, and commanding the persons 
composing the combinations to disperse, 
and retire peaceably to their respective 
abodes within twenty days. Congress 
was, at the same time, summoned to 
meet in extra session on the ensuing -ith 
of July. When that body met, the 
Southern Confederacy had succeeded in 
arraying large armies in the field for the 
accomplishment of its revolutionaiy de- 
sisrns. Various skirmishes and minor 
battles had occurred in Missouri, West- 
ern Virginia, and elsewhere, and the 
troops which had been raised at the 
North were about to meet the enemy in 
the disastrous battle of Bull Run. Tlie 
President laid the coui'se which he had 
pursued before Congress, calling upon 
them for " the legal means to make the 
contest a short and decisive one." He 
felt, he said, that he had no moral right 
to shrink from the issue, though it wiis 
" with the deepest regret that he had 
found the duty of employing the war- 
power." " Having," he said, in the con- 
clusion of his message, " chosen our course 
without guile and with pure purposo kt 



us renew our trust in God, and go for- 
ward without fear and witli manly hearts. 
The stoiy of the conduct of that 
struggle through four years of unexam- 
])led sacrifices by the people, of unf)re- 
cedented trials to the State, of a contro- 
versy of arms and principles testing 
every fibre of the nation, and ending in 
the vindication and reestablishment of 
the Union, belongs to Histoiy rather 
than to Biography. But the part borne 
in the stmggle by President Lincoln will 
ever be memorable. He was emphati- 
cally the representative of the popular 
will and loyal spirit of the nation. In 
his nature eminently a friend of peace, 
without personal hostilities or sectional 
prejudices, he patiently sought the wel- 
fare of the whole. Accepting war as aa 
inevitable necessity he conducted it with 
vigor, yet with an evident desire to 
smooth its asperities and prepare the 
way for final and fi'iendly reconciliation. 
Unhappily, the demands of the South 
for independence, and their continued 
stru£rt;le for the severance of the Union, 
rendered any settlement short of abso- 
lute conquest of the armies in the field 
impossible. To hasten this end, Avhen 
the condition appeared inevitable. Pre- 
sident Lincoln, after many delays 
and warnings, issued a proclamation of 
negro emancipation within the rebellious 
States, on the twenty-second of Septem 
ber, 18G2. It was appointed to go into 
effect — the States continuing in rebellion 
— on the first of January ensuing. " All 
persons," it declared, " held as slaves 
\vithin any State, or designated part of 
a State, the people whereof shall then 
be in rebellion against the United States, 
shall be thenceforward and forever free ; 
and the Executive Government of the 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 



201 



United States, including the military 
and naval authority thereof, will recog- 
nize and maintain the freedom of such 
persons, and will do no act or acts to 
repress such pei'sons, or any of them, in 
any efforts they may make for their 
actual freedom." This proclamation, in 
general accordance with the action of 
the Congress, was a war measru-e ; it 
had grown out of the war as a necessity, 
was promulgated conditionally with an 
appeal for the termination of the war, 
and, if destined to be operative, was de- 
pendent upon military success for its 
efficiency. The war, it was generally 
admitted, if continued, would put an 
end to slavery ; and as the slave passed 
under new social relations by the 
advance of the national armies, by con- 
quest, by services rendered to the na- 
tional cause, and finally by enlistment 
in the national armies, this became every 
day more apparent. The President's 
proclamation, the great act of his Admi- 
nistration, proved the declaration of an 
obvious and inevitable result. Two 
years more of war, after it was issued, 
of war growing in malignity and inten- 
sity, and extending through new regions, 
confii-med its necessity ; while President 
Lincoln, as the end drew nigh, sought 
to strengthen the fact of emancipation 
by recommending to Congress and the 
people, as an independent measiu*e, the 
passage of an amendment of the Consti- 
tution, finally abolishing the institution 
of slavery in the United States. 

President Lincoln, as we have said, in 
his conduct of the war, steadily sought 
the sujiport of the people. Lideed, his 
measui'es were fully in accordance with 
their conviction, his i-esolutions, waiting 
the slow development of events, being 
26 



governed more by facts than theories. 
He thus became emphatically the execu- 
tive of the national will ; his course 
wisely guided by a single view for the 
maintenance of the Union was in accord 
ance with the popular judgment ; and in 
consequence, as the expiration of his term 
of ofiice approached, it became evident 
that he would be chosen by the people 
for a second term of the Presidency. As 
the canvass proceeded the result was hard- 
ly regarded as doubtful, and the actual 
election in Nov., 1864, confij-med the an- 
ticipation. Out of 25 States, in which the 
vote was taken he received a majority of 
the popular vote of 23 — Delaware, Ken- 
tucky, and New Jersey for McClellan.. 

President Lincoln's second Inaugural 
Addi'ess on the 4th of March, 1865, was 
one of his most characteristic State pa- 
pers. It was a remarkable expression 
of his personal feelings, his modesty and 
equanimity, his humble reliance on a 
superior power for light and guidance 
in the path of duty. Success in his 
great career, the evident approach of the 
national triumph, in which he was to 
share, generated in his mind no vulgar 
feeling of elation ; on the contrary he 
was impressed, if possible, with a weigh- 
tier sense of responsibility and a deeper 
religious obligation. " With malice to- 
ward none, " was his memorable lan- 
guage, " with charity for all, with firm- 
ness in the right — as God gives us to 
see the right — let us strive on to finish 
the work we are in — to bind up the 
nation's wounds — to care for him who 
shall have borne the battle, and for his 
widow and orphans — to do all which 
may achieve and cherish a just and last- 
ing peace among ourselves, and with all 
nations." The peace so ardently longed 



202 



ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 



for was not far distant. On the 9tli of 
April Geuenil Lee surrendered the chief 
rebel army to General Grant, and with 
that event the war was virtually ended. 
President Lincoln had been witness of 
Boine of its closiuir scenes at Richmond, 
and had returned to Washington in 
time to receive at the capital news of 
the suiTcnder. In an address to a ga- 
thering of the people who came to the 
Presidential mansion to congratulate him 
on the result, he avoided any iinseemly 
expressions of triumph, and turned his 
thoughts calmly to the great problem of 
reconstruction, upon which his mind was 
now fully intent. At the close he de- 
clared, in view of some act of ainnci^ty 
overtiu'es of reconciliation, that it might 
800U be his duty " to make some new 
announcement to the people of the 
South." This speech was made on the 
evening of the eleventh of A])ril. The 
fourteenth was the anniversary of Sum- 
ter, completing the four years' period of 
the war. There was no particular ob- 
servance of the day at Washington, but 
in the evening the President, accompa- 
nied by his wife, a daughter of Senator 
Harris, and Major Rathbone, of the 
United States army, attended by invi- 
tation the performances at Ford's The- 
atre, where a large audience was assem- 
bled to greet him. When the play had 
reached the third act, about nine o'clock, 
as the President was sittinif at the front 
of the private box near the stage, he v/as 
deliberately shot fi-om behind by an as- 
sassin, John Wilkes Booth, the leader of 
a gang of conspirators, who had been for 
some time intent, in concert with the re- 
bellion, upon taking his life. The ball 
entered the back part of the President's 
head, penetrated the brain, and rendered 



him, on the instant, totally insensible. 
lie was removed by his friends to a 
house opposite the theatre, lingered in a 
state of unconsciousness durin^f the nijjht 
and expu'cd at twenty-two minutes pa.st 
seven o'clock on the morning of the ir)th. 
Thus fell, cruelly mui-dered by a vul- 
gar assassin, at the moment of national 
victory, with his mind intent uj)on the 
hajipier future of the Republic, with 
thoughts of kindness and I'ecouciliation 
toward the vanquished enemies of the 
State, the President who had just been 
placed by the sober judgment of the 
people a second time as their represent- 
ative in the seat of executive authority. 
The blow was a fearful one. It created 
in the mind of the nation a feeling of 
horror and pity, which was witnessed 
in the firmest resolves and tenderest 
sense of commiseration. All parties 
throughout the loyal States united in 
demonstrations of respect and affection. 
Acts of mourning were spontaneous and 
universal. Business was everyAvhere 
suspended, while the people assembled 
to express their admiration and love of 
the President so foully slain, and to 
devote themselves anew to the cause — 
their own cause — for the assertion of 
which he had been stricken down. When 
the funeral took place, the long proces- 
sion, as it took its way from Washington 
thi'ough Pennsylvania, New York, Ohio 
and Indiana, to the President's home in 
Illinois was attended, at eyery step, with 
unprecedented funeral honors ; orations 
were delivered in the large cities, crowds 
of mourners by night and day witnessed 
the solemn passage of the train on the long 
lines of railway ; a half million of persons 
it was estimated, kxjked iipon the face 
of their departed President and friend. 




I I 



'/J-C/'T^^ 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 



Among the many public men in tlie 
United States who have risen to dis- 
tinction fi'om humble circumstances by 
industry and natural force of character, 
Andrew Johnson of Tennessee, by for- 
tune and position, is certainly not the 
least noticeable. Born of poor parents, 
in Ralefgh, North Carolina, December 
29th, 1808, he was apprenticed in his 
boyhood to a tailor, and was engaged 
in this occupation in South Carolina 
till the age of seventeen. He subse- 
quently crossed the mountains border- 
ing his State on the west, travelling, it 
is said, on foot vnth his wife, and es- 
tablished himself at Greenville, Ten- 
nessee. Pursuing there a life of indus- 
try, working out, meanwhile, by his 
own exertions the problem of educa- 
tion — for he had never attended school 
— he prospered in the world, and hav- 
ing a disjjosition to public life, with a 
talent for speaking, he soon became 
known as a politician. He was elected 
Mayor of Greenville in 1830, was 
chosen a member of the State Legisla- 
ture in 1835, and of the State Senate 
in 1841. For ten years, from 1843 to 
1853, he represented his district in the 
national House of Representatives ; in 
the last-mentioned year being elected 
Governor of the State of Tennessee, 
and again in 1855. In 1857, crowning 



this rapid series of honorable political 
promotions, he took his seat as United 
States Senator for the full term ending 
in 1863. 

A man of the people, he represented 
in the Senate the strongly-nurtured 
democratic energy and instincts of the 
West, identifying himself Avith its well- 
fare, distinguishing himself particularly 
by his advocacy of the Homestead Bill, 
which opened the unsettled territory 
virtually to free occupancy by the 
settler. It was not to be supposed 
that such a man, the representative of 
the free mountain region of East Ten- 
nessee, where his home lay, would 
have much sympathy with the great 
Southern Rebellion. On the contrary, 
he was, in his seat in the Senate, one 
of the foremost to oppose its first mani- 
festations. In that memorable session, 
in the closing months of President 
Buchanan's administration, when the 
Southern members were abandoning 
their posts, preparatory to their work 
of treason, he stood unmoved, strenu- 
ously opposing eveiy exhibition of dis- 
loyalty, and calling resolutely on all 
to maintain the Constitution and the 
integrity of the Union as the secure 
and only basis of popular rights. His 
course was known and marked by the 
disloyal in his own State and else- 



203 



204 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 



where. The mob of Memphis, during 
this period, in proof of their luvstility, 
burnt his effigy, and at the close of 
tVe session he was directly insulted 
and threatened with violence at the 
railway station, at Lynchburg, Vir- 
giniii, while on his way homeward 
from "\Vashin<?tou. Arrived in East 
Tennessee, he took part in the Union 
Convention at Greenville, at the end 
of May, supporting the declaration 
of grievances Avhich, in an empliatic 
manner, bore witness to the loyalty of 
that portion of the State. On the 10th 
of June he made a memoral)le speech 
at Cincinnati, denouncing, in unmea- 
sured terms, the iniquity of the Ten- 
nessee Legislature, in procuring, con- 
trary to the expressed will of the 
peojile, an alliance ^vith the Southern 
Confederacy. In glo^^^ng language he 
summoned all, M-ithout regard to old 
party considerations, to come to the 
su})j>ort of their common country, and 
" crush, destroy, and totally annihilate " 
the spirit of secession, as an influence 
utterly hostile to all religious, moral, 
or social organization. " It is," said he, 
" disintegi-ation, universal dissolvement, 
making war upon everything that has 
a tendency to promote and ameliorate 
the condition of the mass of man- 
kind." 

In the extra session of Congress in 
July, he reiterated these sentiments in 
an eloquent speech in the Senate, char- 
acterizing the war upou which the 
country had entered as a struggle for 
the very existence of the Government 
against internal foes and traitors. " It 
is a contest," said he, " whether a peoj^le 



are capable of governing themselves oi 
not. We have reached that crisis in 
our country's history, and the time has 
arrived when, if the Government has 
the power, if the people are caj>a1ile 
of self-government, and can establisli 
this great trutli, that it should be 
done." Nothing discouraged by the 
recent disaster to the national army at 
Bull Hun, he exclaimed on this occa- 
sion, at the close of a masterly review 
of the political situation of the countrj"^, 
after calling on the Government to 
redi>uble its energies in the field, " "We 
must succeed. This Government must 
not, cannot fall. Though yonr flag 
may have trailed in the dust Irt it still 
be borne onward ; and if for the prose- 
cution of this war in behalf of the 
Government and the Constitution, it is 
necessaiy to cleanse and purify* the 
banner, let it be baptized in fire from 
the sun and bathed in a nation's blood. 
The nation must be redeemed; it must 
be triumphant." 

In the months which followed. Sena- 
tor Johnson rendered eminent ser\nce 
by his speeches and influence to the 
national cause. At length, in the 
spring of 1862, the Union victories in 
Tennessee having resulted in the mili- 
tary occupation of Nashville, his 
patriotism was rewarded by the ap- 
pointment, with the rank of brigadier- 
general of volunteei's, of military Gover- 
nor of Tennessee. He immediately, in 
March, 1802, entered upon the duties 
of this office, which he has continued to 
discharge, through many vicissitudes of 
public aliaiis, with firmness and discre- 
tion. 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 



205 



At tlie meeting of the National Con- 
vention of the Republican party, which 
assembled at Baltimore on the 7th of 
June, 1864, Andrew Johnson was no- 
minated for Vice President on the ticket 
with President Lincoln. The nomina- 
tion was well received by the party — 
for the principles and steadfastness of 
Governor Johnson had been fully tried 
in his private station and in office du- 
ring the war ; and the success of the 
ticket, as the canvass proceeded, was re- 
garded as a matter of certainty previously 
to the election in November. Simulta- 
neously with the inauguration of Presi- 
dent Lincoln, at his entrance on his se- 
cond term of office on the 4th of March 
1865, the oath of office was administered 
to Vice-President Johnson, in the Senate 
Chamber. He remained in Washincjton, 
and was one of the eminent heads of the 
Government marked out by the assassin 
Booth and his fellow conspirators to ' be 
murdered at the development of their 
fiendish plot in April, on the anniversary, 
of the attack upon Fort Sumter. Nar- 
rowly escaping this fate by the timidity 
or reluctance of the person to whom his 
murder was assigned, he was, on the 
instant, at the immediate fatal termina- 
tion of the wound inflicted upon Presi- 
dent Lincoln, called to be his successor in 
office. Notified of this event, and sum- 
moned to the performance of his new 
duties by the members of the Cabinet, 
the oath of office as President was admi- 
nistei'ed to him by Chief Justice Chase, 
in the forenoon of the fourteenth of 
April, a few hours after President Lin- 
coln's decease, at his rooms at the Kirk- 
wood House, in "Washington. After re- 
ceiving the oath, and being declared 



President of the United States, Mr. 
Johnson remarked to the members of 
the Cabinet and others present : " I 
must be permitted to say that I have 
been almost overwhelmed by the an- 
nouncement of the sad event which has 
so recently occurred. I feel incompetent 
to perform duties so important and re- 
sponsible as those which have been so 
unexpectedly thrown upon me. As to 
an indication of any policy which may 
be pursued by me in the administration 
of the Government, I have to say that 
that must be left for development as the 
Administration progresses. The message 
or declaration must be made by the acts 
as they transpire. The only assurance 
that I can now give of the future ia 
reference to the past. The coui'se which 
I have taken in the past in connection 
with this rebellion must be regarded as 
a guarantee of the future. My past 
public life, which has been long and 
laborious, has been founded, as I in 
good conscience believe, upon a gi'eat 
principle of right, which lies at the. 
basis of all things. The best energies of 
my life have been spent in endeavoring 
to establish and pei'petuate the princi- 
ples of fi'ee Government, and I believe 
that the Government, in passing through 
its present perils, will settle down upon 
pi'incijiles consonant with popular right, 
more permanent and enduring than 
heretofore. I must be permitted to say, 
if I understand the feelings of my own 
heart, I have long labored to ameliorate 
and elevate the condition of the great 
mass of the American people. Toil, and 
an honest advocacy of the great princi- 
ples of free government, have been my 
lot. The duties have been mine — the 



20G 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 



consequences are God's. This has been 
the foundation of my political creed. I 
feel that in the end the Government will 
triumph, and that these great principles 
will be permanently established. lu 
concluriion, gentlemen, let me say that I 
want your encouragement and counte- 
nance. I shall ask and rely upon you 
and others in carrying the Government 
thi-ough its present perils. I feel in 
making this I'equest that it will be 
heartily responded to by you and all 
other patriots and lovers of the rights 
and interest of a free people." 

At this moment, as an indication of 
his views, a recent speech of Johnson 
was recalled which he delivered in 
"Washington at the beginning of Apiil, 
when ne^vs of the capture of Richmond 
was received at the capital. " You 
must indulge me," said he on that oc- 
casion, " in making one single remark in 
connection with myself. At the time 
the traitors in the Senate of the United 
States plotted against the Government, 
and entered into a conspiracy more foul, 
more execrable and more odious than 
that of Cataline against the Romans, I 
happened to be a member of that body, 
and, as to loyalty, stood solitary and 
alone among the Senators from the 
Southern States. I was then and there 
called upon to know what I would do 
with such traitors, and I want to repeat 
my reply here. I said, if we had an 
Andrew Jackson he would hang them 
as high as Haman. But as he is no 
more, and sleeps in his grave in his own 
beloved State, where traitors and treason 
avo even insulted his tomb and the 
very earth that covers his remains, 
huTuble as I am, when you ask me Avhat 
I would do, my reply is, I would ai-rest 



them ; I would try them ; I would con> 
vict them, and I would hang them. As 
humble as I am and have been, I have 
pursued but one undeviating course. 
All that I have — life, limb and pro- 
perty — have been put at the disposal of 
the country in this great struggle. I 
have been in camp, I have been in the 
field, I have been everywhere where 
this great rebellion was ; I have pur- 
sued it until I believe I can now see its 
termination. Since the world began 
there never has been a rebellion of such 
gigantic proportions, so infamous in 
character, so diabolical in motive, so 
entirely disregardful of the laws of 
civilize<l war. It has introduced the 
most savage mode of warfare ever prac- 
ticed upon the earth, 

" I will repeat here a remark, for 
which I have been in no small degree 
censured. What is it, allow me to ask, 
that has sustained the nation in this 
great struggle ? The cry has been, you 
know, that our Government was not 
strong enough for a time of rebellion ; 
and in such a time she would have to 
contend against internal weakness as 
well as internal foes. We have now 
given the world evidence that such is 
not the fact; and when the rebellion 
shall have been crushed out, and the 
nation shall once again have settled 
down in peace, our Government will 
rest upon a more enduring basis than 
ever before. But, my friends, in what 
has the great strength of this Govern- 
ment consisted ? Has it been in one- 
man power ? Has it been in some auto- 
crat, or in some one man who held 
absolute government ? No ! I thank 
God I have it in my power to proclaim 
the great truth that this Government 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 



207 



has derived its strength fi'om the Amer- 
ican people. They have issued the 
edict ; they have exercised the power 
that has resulted in the overthrow of 
the rebellion, and there is not another 
Government upon the face of the earth 
that could have withstood the shock. 
We can now congratulate ourselves that 
we possess the strongest, the freest 
and the best Govermnent the world 
ever saw. 

"Thank God that we have lived 
through this trial, and that, looking in 
your intelligent faces here, to-day, I can 
announce to you the great fact that 
Petersburgh, the outpost of the strong 
citadel, has been occupied by oiu* brave 
and gallant officers, and our untiring, 
invincible soldiers. And not content 
with that they have captured the citadel 
itself, the stronghold of the traitors. 
Richmond is oiu's, and is now occupied 
by the forces of the United States ! 
Death to the conspirators — clemency to 
their victims. One word more, and I 
have done. It is this : I am in favor of 
leniency ; but in my opinion, evildoers 
should be punished. Treason is the 
highest crime known in the catalogue 
of crimes ; and for him that is guilty of 
it — for him that is willing to lift his im- 
pious hand against the authority of the 
nation— I would say death is too easy a 
punishment. My notion is that treason 
must be made odious, that traitors must 
be punished and impoverished, their 
social power broken, though they must 
be made to feel the penalty of their 
crimes. Hence I say this — the halter 
to intelligent, influential traitors. But 
to the honest boy, to the deluded man, 
who has been deceived into the rebel 
ranks, I would extend leniency. I 



would say, return to your allegiance, 
renew youi* support to the Government 
and become a good citizen ; but the 
leaders I would hang. I hold, too, that 
wealthy traitors should be made to re- 
munerate those men who have suffered 
as a consequence of their crimes — Union 
men who have lost their property, who 
have been driven from their homes, beg- 
gars and wanderers among strangers. 
It is well to talk about things here to- 
day, in addressing the well-informed 
persons who compose this audience. 
You can, to a veiy great extent, aid in 
moulding public opinion and giving it 
proper dii'ection. Let us commence the 
work. We have put down these traitors 
in ai-ms ; let us put them down in law. 
in public judgment and in the morals of 
the world." 

In the spirit of these declarations 
President Johnson, shortly after his in- 
auguration, addressed Governor Oglesby 
of Illinois, and a number of eminent 
citizens of the State as well as other 
delegations fi'om the East and West. 
To the expressions of sympathy and 
confidence by Gov. Oglesby he replied : 
"To an individual like myself, who has 
never claimed much, but who has, it is 
true, received from a generous people 
many marks of trust and honor, for a 
long time, an occasion like this, and a 
manifestation of public feeling so well- 
timed, are peculiarly acceptable. Sprung 
from the people myself, every pulsation 
of the popular heart finds an immediate 
answer to my own. By many men in 
public life such occasions are often con 
sidered merely formal. To me they are 
real. Youi- words of countenance and 
encouragement sink deep in my heart ; 
and were I even a coward I oould not 



208 



ANDRE\r JOHNSON. 



but gather from them strength to carry 
out my convictions of the right. Thus 
feeling, I shall enter upon the discharge 
of my great duty firmly, steadfastly, if 
not with the signal ability exhibited by 
my predecessor, which is still fresh in 
our sorrowing minds. Need I repeat 
that no heart feels more sensibly than 
miue this great atlliction ? In what I 
say on this occasion, I shall indulge in 
no petty spirit of anger, no feeling of 
revenge. But we have beheld a notable 
event in the history of mankind. In the 
midst of the American people, where 
every citizen is taught to obey law and 
observe the rules of Christian conduct, 
our Chief Magistrate, the beloved of all 
hearts, has been assassinated ; and when 
wo trace this crime to its cause, when 
we remember the source whence the as- 
sassin drew his inspiration, and then 
look at the result, we stand yet more 
astounded at this most barbarous, most 
diabolical assassination. Such a crime 
as the murder of a great and good man, 
honored and revered, the beloved and 
the hope of the people, springs not alone 
from a solitary individual of ever so 
desperate wickedness. We can trace 
its cause through successive steps, with- 
out my enumerating them here, back to 
that source which is the spring of all 
our woes. No one can say that if the 
perpetrator of this fiendish deed be ar- 
rested, he should not undergo the ex- 
tremest penalty the law knows for 
crime ; none will say that mercy should 
interpose. But is he alone guilty ? 
Here, gentlemen, you perhaps expect 
me to present some indication of my 
future policy. One thing I will say. 
Every era teaches its lesson. The times 
we live in are not without instruction. 



The American people must be taught — ■ 
if they do not already feel — that treason 
is a crime and nuist be punished ; that 
the Government will not always bear 
with its enemies; that it is strung, not 
only to protect, but to punish. When 
we turn to the criminal code and exam- 
ine the catalogue of crimes, we there 
find arson laid down as a crime with its 
appropriate penalty; we find there theft, 
and robbery, and murder, given as 
crimes ; and there, too, we find the last 
and highest of crimes — treason. With 
other and inferior off'ences our people 
are familiar ; but in our peaceful his- 
tory treason has been almost unknown. 
The people must understand that it is 
the blackest of crimes, and will be surely 
punished. I nuike this allusion, not to 
excite the already exasperated feelings 
of the public, but to point out the prin- 
ciples of public justice wdiich should 
guide our action at this particular junc- 
ture, and which accord with sound pub- 
lic morals. Let it be engraven on every 
heart that treason is a cnme, and trai- 
toi-s shall suffer its penalt}'. While we 
strain our minds to comprehend the 
enormity of this assassination, shall we 
allow the nation to be assassinated r' 

The presidential terra of President 
Johnson will occupy a peculiar place in 
the political history of the country. 
The war being ended, his sympathies, 
which had been so strongly enlisted in 
upholding the National Union, and had 
led him to an alliance with the Repub- 
licans — now returning to their old chan- 
nel — brought him again in concert with 
the Democratic party. It was his for- 
tune thoiiceforth during his terra of of- 
fice to be in a state of ]K'rpetual dis- 
agreement with the measures which 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 



209 



Congress adopted in the government of 
the late disaffected States and otherwise 
in the work of reconstruction. "Want 
of confidence and suspicion led to hos- 
tility ; there was but little reticence on 
either side ; the leaders of the House of 
Representatives were unsparing in their 
denunciations ; the President, who never 
practised any concealment of his 
thoughts, indulged freely in recrimina- 
tion, by pen and speech ; laws were 
passed, to receive, time and again, the 
Presidential veto, and to be re-adopted 
and made the law of the land by con- 
stitutional majorities. The work was 
thus thrown on the Executive of put- 
ting into operation and enforcing enact- 
ments which he over and over demon- 
strated, from his own point of view — 
following his best convictions — to be 
illegal, and contrary to the true interests 
of the country. In the maintenance of 
his opinion he was stubborn and un- 
yielding. Congress, holding him firmly 
to his executive duties, constantly im- 
posed new conditions and contrived 
safeguards by which he should be bound 
to carry out their will without regard 
to any " policy " of his own. This in 
time led to an open rupture and a resort 
by Congress to the extreme resource of 
impeachment. 

Among the more important acts of 
Congress which called forth the veto of 
the President was the Civil Rights Bill, 
in 1866 — an act for the benefit of the 
emancipated colored race, declaring all 
persons, of every race and color, born 
in the United States and not subject to 
any foreign power — excluding Indians 
not taxed — to be citizens of the United 
States, entitled to the full and equal 
benefit of all laws and proceedings for 



the security of person and 3>roperty 
enjoyed by white citizens, and guaran- 
teeing to the late slaves protection in 
their newly-acquired rights under the 
exclusive jurisdiction of the United 
States Courts. To this act President 
Johnson, among other things, objected 
the impolicy of immediately conferring 
citizenship upon the recently emanci- 
pated race, urging the discrimination in 
their favor against foreign residents, 
who were required to " undergo a pro- 
bation of five years," and especially the 
interference of the bill wath the peculiar 
rights and legislation of the several 
States concerned. The bill was passed 
in April over the veto in the Senate by 
a Republican vote of 33 against 15 — 
mainly Democratic, and in the House 
by 122 against 34. 

The adjustment of the Freedmen's 
Bureau Bill gave rise to other vetoes, 
the President, among other points, ob- 
jecting to the conflict of jurisdiction 
between the military tribunals of the 
bill and other constituted authorities. 
The bill abolishing the distinction of 
race or color in the elective franchise in 
the District of Columbia met with like 
opposition; so, too, the act pro\ading 
military government for the insurrec- 
tionary States, which, like the others, 
was passed over the President's veto. 
Thus the conflict went on between the 
executive and legislative departments 
of the Government, culminating in the 
passage, of course in like manner, over 
the President's veto, of the Tenure-of- 
Civil-Oflice Act, by which the power of 
removal of incumbents was taken away 
from the President, save on the terms 
of their original appointment " by and 
with the advice of the Senate." The 



210 



ANDREW JOHNSON. 



act was made ppocially a]>])licahlo to the 
iiK-inlHTS of the Cahiiiot, tin- Scoivtaries 
of State, of the Trea'sury, of War, of the 
Navy, and of the Interior, the Postmas- 
ter-General ami the Attorney(ieneral, 
whose term of otHce was continued, suh- 
ject to the control of the Senate, during 
the term of the President by whom they 
may liave l)een apjiointed. Under cer- 
tain eircumstanoes of alleged miscon- 
duct, or legal disqualification, or inca- 
pacity, the President might, during a 
recess of the Senate, suspend such of- 
ficer and appoint a temporary incumbent 
until the ciise should be acted upon by 
the Senate at its next meeting. This 
bill was passed by the requisite majori- 
ties in March, 18G7. The alleged vio- 
lation of this act formed the ground of 
several articles of the forniida])le " Im- 
peachment " of the President, brought 
by the House of Representatives exactly 
a year afterwards. In August, 1867, 
President Johnson suspended Secretary 
Stanton from oflice as Secretary of War, 
and appointed Gen. Grant as his suc- 
cessor cul interim. Stanton strongly 
protested, but yielded the office to 
Grant, who discharged its duties till, at 
their next meeting in January, the 
Senate refused to concur in Mr. Stan- 
ton's suspension, upon which Grant re- 
tired, thus reinstating Stanton in office, 
whilst President Johnson endeavored 
to prevent this result, appointing and 
seeking to establish Adjutant-General 
Thomas in the position. Stanton, how- 
ever, took and kept possession of the 
office till the failure of the inqjeachment, 
in May, induced his resignation. The 



Impeachment trial began in tlie Senate 
on the ;>(tth March, 1867, and terminated 
in a final vote on the 26th May, the 
question having been taken on only 
three of tin; articles of the eleven. The 
verdict was a close one, just failing the 
requisite two-thirds vote — 35 voting 
guilty, 19 not guilty, on the test articles. 
The Court then adjourned sine die. 

On the eve of retiring from the office 
of the Presidency, Johnson sent forth a 
farewell address " To the People of the 
United States," bearing date March 4, 
1869, the day of the inauguration of his 
successor. The document went forth to 
the country, and was published in many 
of the newspapei-s simultaneously with 
the Inaugural Address of Gen. Grant. 
In this pajier President Johnson dwelt 
in his usual unhesitating manner upon 
his difficulties with Congress, and, in 
return for the " impeachment " which 
had been inflicted upon him, charged 
that body with a formidable array of 
grievances, the enumeration of which, 
as it fell from his pen, exhibited in the 
most striking light his utter alienation 
from that branch of the National Gov- 
ernment. With these and other bitter 
paiting words, President Johnson re- 
tired from office, and a few da}s after- 
wards left Washington for his old home 
in Tennessee. On his way at Balti- 
more and elsewhere, and on his arrival 
in his adopted State, he was received 
with distinguished attention by his 
friends and supporters, whom he ad- 
dressed in various speeches on the po- 
litical affairs of the day. 



ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT, 



TffE ancestry of General Grant is 
traced to an early Pilgi-im emigrant, 
Matthew Grant, who came to Massa- 
cliusetts with his wife, Priscilla from 
Dorsetshire England, in 1030. After 
a few years' residence at Dorcliester, 
having lost his wife, Matthew settled 
at Windsor, in Connecticut, where he 
became a man of consequence, and was 
a second time married. 

Ulysses Simpson Grant was the sev- 
enth in descent from this alliance. 
Members of the family served in the 
old Indian and French wars, and in 
the war for Independence, Noah, the 
grandfather of Ulysses, having entered 
the service at Lexington, and attained 
the rai& of captain. After the war 
was over, he was settled for a while in 
Pennsylvania, and subsequently estab- 
lished himself in a house in Ohio. His 
son, Jesse Root Grant, then in his child- 
hood, accompanied him, and after vari- 
ous youthful adventures, entered upon 
manhood with the occupation of a tan- 
At the age of twenty-seven he 



ner. 



married Hannah Simpson, and of this 
alliance was bom at the family resi- 
dence, Point Pleasant, Clermont County, 
Ohio, on the 27th of April, 1822, Ulys- 
ses Simpson Grant. This, however, 
was not the baptismal name of the 
rhild. He was christened Hiram Ulysses 



Grant, the first name apparently exhib- 
iting a trace of the ancestral Puritan 
associations of the family; the second, 
Ulysses, having been inspired by a no 
less classical authority than the Telern- 
achus of Fenelon, a stray copy of 
which had brought the fame of the 
Homeric hero to the homestead on the 
Ohio. We shall see presently by what 
accident the name was changed. The 
boy grew up in the Buckeye state, 
under the paternal training, accustomed 
to the industry of the tan-yard, and 
outside of the labors of this sturdy 
pursuit finding ready relief in the 
manly rural sports and adventures of 
Western life, with an especial zest for 
all that related to horsemanship. He 
became in fact so great an adept in 
riding, that he practised some of the 
daring feats of the ring. In such hardy 
pursuits Grant grew up a rather quiet, 
self reliant youth, and on his approach 
to manhood exhibited a spirit of inde 
pendence in an uncompromising disrel 
ish of the somewhat rougli toil of the 
tannery. On his rejecting this mode 
of life, his father, looking round for a 
pursuit for his son, the thought hap- 
pily occurred to him of a cadetship at 
West-Point. Accidentally there was a 
vacancy in the district, and an appli- 
cation to the representative in Congress 

(2U) 



212 



ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. 



secured it. The niemlier confounding 
the family names, sent in tlie applica- 
tion for Ulysses Simpson Grant. Under 
this name the apj)ointment was made 
out, and the authorities at the Military 
academy being iuditt'erent or unwilling 
to correct the error, the candidate was 
compelled to accept the designation. 
lie entered West-Point in 1839, at the 
age of seventeen, and graduated in due 
course in 1843, the twenty-first in a 
class of thirty nine. He had no great 
reputation in tlie academy as a student, 
though he displayed a taste for mathe- 
matics; while his general abilities 
and moral qualities were undoubted. 
The skill in horsemanship which he 
carried with him, distinguished him in 
the exercises of the riding school. His 
biographer, Albert D. Richardson, to 
whom we are indebted for many inter- 
esting personal notices of General Gi-ant, 
has recorded an anecdote of his profi- 
ciency in this accomplishment. " There 
was nothing," says he, "he could not 
ride. He commanded, sat, and jumjK'd 
a horse with singular ease and grace ; 
was seen to the best advantage when 
mounted and at a full gallop; could 
perform more feats than any other 
memV)er of his class, and was altogether 
one of the very best riders West-Point 
had ever known. 

" The noted horse of that whole re- 
gion, was a powerful, long-legged sor- 
rel, known as York. Grant and his 
classmate, Couts, were the only cadets 
who rode him at all, and Couts could 
not approach Grant, It was his de- 
light to jump York over the fifth bar, 
about five feet from the ground, and 
the best leap ever made at West-Point, 
something more than six feet, is still 



marked there as ' Grant's upon York.' 
York's way was to approach the bar 
at a gentle gallop, crouch like a cat, 
and fly over with rarest grace. One 
would see his fore feet high in the air, 
his heels rising as his fore feet fell, and 
then all four falling lightly together. 
It needed a firm seat, a steady hand, 
and a quick eye to keep upon the back 
of that flying steed. At the final ex- 
amination, his chief achievement was 
with his famous horse York. In pres- 
ence of the })oard of visitors he made 
the famous leap of six feet and two or 
three inches." 

Grant left West-Point with the bre- 
vet appointment of second lieutenant 
in the 4th Infantry, and presently 
joined his regiment at Jeflferson Bar- 
racks, St. Louis, INIissouri, where he 
became acquainted, and formed an at- 
tachment to the sister of one of his 
academy classmates, Miss Julia Dent, 
the lady who subsequently became his 
wife. This was the period of medi- 
tated Texas annexation, which under 
the influences of Southern political 
necessities was being steadily forced 
upon the country. Portions of the 
small national army were gradually 
concentrated on the Southern frontier. 
The regiment to which Grant was at. 
tached, was pushed forward in the 
movement, tarrying a year at Fort Jes- 
sup, on Red river, when it was sent 
to Corpus Christi, Texas, forming a 
part of General Taylor's araiy of obser- 
vation, Grant being now- promoted full 
second lieutenant, and in the spring of 
of 1846, reached the Rio Grande. It 
was a challenge to the IMexican forces 
on the right bank of the river, which 
they were not long in accepting. The 



ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. 



213 



contest fairly began in May, with the 
battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la 
Palma, in both of which actions Grant 
was actively engaged. He was also 
in the thick of the fight in the severe 
assault of Monterey, in Sej^tember. 
Shortly after the arrival of General 
Scott at Vera Cruz, in the beginning of 
the following year, Grant joined that 
commander, his regiment with others 
having been withdrawn from the forces 
of General Taylor, to take part in the 
expedition against the capital. He 
was with the army of Scott in the suc- 
cessive battles from Cerro Gordo, on- 
ward, which marked the victorious pro- 
gress to the City of Mexico, ever active 
in the field and as quartermaster, and 
was brevetted first lieutenant and cap- 
tain for gallant and meritorious conduct 
at Molino del Rej' and Chapultepec. 

The war being ended, Grant on a 
visit to St. Louis married his betrothed 
in Au^nist, 1848, and was subsequently 
stationed for two years with his regi- 
ment at Detroit, with a brief interval 
of service at Sackett's Harbor, dis- 
charging the duties of quartermaster. 
In 1852, his regiment was sent to the 
Pacific, and stationed in the vicinity of 
Portland, Oregon, where in 1853, he 
was promoted to a full captaincy. He 
was then ordered with his company to 
Fort Humbolt, in northern California. 
Here having been subjected to certain 
animadversions from "Washington, on 
the ground of intemperate drinking, 
on an intimation of the charge in the 
summer of 1854, he resigned his com- 
mission. He now passed several years 
in farming operations with his wife's 
family in Missouri, and in 1859', became 
engaged with a friend in business at 



St. Louis as real-estate agent, with the 
firm of Boggs & Grant. At this time 
he made an application to the authori- 
ties of the city for a local office. The 
characteristic letter addressed to the 
Hon. County Commissioners, in which 
he presented his claims, has been pre- 
served by his biographers ; it reads as 
follows : " Gentlemen ; I beg leave to 
submit myself as an applicant for the 
office of County Engineer, should the 
office be rendered vacant, and at the 
same time to submit the names of a few 
citizens who have been kind enough to 
recommend me for the office. I have 
made no eflfort to get a large number 
of names, nor the names of persons 
with whom I am not personally ac- 
quainted. I enclose herewith also, a 
statement from Prof. J. J. Reynolds, 
who was a classmate of mine at West 
Point, as to qualifications. 

"Should your honorable body see 
proper to giv^e me the appointment, I 
pledge myself to give the office my en- 
tire attention, and shall hope to give 
general satisfaction. 

Very respectfully, 

Your obedient servant, 

U. S. Grant." 
This application though backed by a 
goodly number of business friends was 
rejected, his competitor for the office 
succeeding, it is said, through greater 
political influence, though it must be 
admitted there was but a feeble recog- 
nition at this time of the talents and 
character by which Grant subsequently 
became so famous. "There was no 
other special objection to him," says 
his biographer Richardson, "than his 
supposed democratic proclivities from 
his political antecedents. His ability 



214 



ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. 



as an engineer was aeeorded. lie was 
not ranch known, though the commis- 
sioners had oeeasionally seen him about 
town, a trifle shabby in dress, with 
pantaloons tucked in his boots. They 
supposed him a good office man, but 
hardly equal to the high responsibility 
of keeping the roads in order. lie 
might answer for a clerk, but in this 
county engineership, talent and effi- 
ciency were needed." 

A piU'tial amend for this disappoint- 
ment was made by a minor position in 
the Custom House at St. Louis, out of 
Avhich he was thrown after a few weeks 
possession by the death of his superior, 
the collector. On the prospect of a 
vacancy in the County Engineership in 
1 son, he sent in a second application to 
the commissioners, but the office was 
not vacated, and of course nothing 
came of it. In this extremity of his 
fortunes haNnng a family to support, he 
removed to Galena, Illinois, where his 
father had estaldished a protitable lea- 
ther business. In this store Grant was 
employed at the very humble salary of 
eight hundred dollars. In this posi- 
tion he was found when the attack on 
Sumter in the Spring of 1861 sum- 
moned the country to arms for the pre- 
servation of the integrity of the Union. 
The news that this first blow was 
struck, in Illinois, as elsewhere in the 
North and West, tired the heart of the 
people. (Jrant's town of Galena was 
not behind in this national emotion. 
A meeting on the instant was held, at 
which Washburn, member of Congress 
of the district, and Kawlins a young 
lawyer of the place, destined to become 
distinguished in the United States 
army, were speakers, and ga\e expres- 



sion to the enthusiasm of the hour. 
Their voice was for the uncomproniis. 
iiig maintenance of the National Union, 
and their expressions were unequivocal 
that this involved an armed struggle. 
Grant was present, quite willing to ac- 
cept the conclusion, and expressed his 
intention again to enter the service. 
At a second meetinof he was called 
upon to preside, and being apparently 
the only one in the region who knew 
anything of military organization, un- 
folded some of the details lequired in 
raising troops, which was now the order 
of the day. He was active in the pre- 
liminary local movements, in getting 
together volunteers, and Washburn, 
who began to appreciate his merits, 
presented his claims to command un- 
successfully in these first days to Gover- 
nor Yates, at Springfield. Grant mean- 
while, had ottered his services to the 
War Di-partment at Washington, and 
the ajiplication renuiined unanswered ; 
nor had an ajipliciition to the Governor 
of Ohio met a better fjite. Governor 
Yates, now of necessity gave him em- 
jdoyment as clerk in his military office, 
and under a like exigency, though still 
without a commission, became actively 
engaged in the work of military organi- 
zation. Nearly two. months had now 
passed, and Grant was on a visit to his 
father in Covington, opposite Cincin- 
nati, when General ^leClellan was in 
command. It is related that Grant 
called upon him twice without "j)ro- 
posing to ask for an appointment, but 
thinking that McClellau might invite 
him to come on his statt'." * The acci- 
dent of not meeting McClellan, otlei-s a 
curious subject of speculation as to the 

* Richardson's Personal History of Grant. 



ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. 



215 



probable results in diverting a man of 
mark from the future great destiny 
wliich awaited him. Before he reached 
Illinois, on his return, a dispatch from 
Governor Yates to Grant was on its 
way appointing him colonel of the 
twenty-first Illinois volunteers. In this 
capacity Grant began his actual service 
in the war, marcliing his men to north- 
ern Missouri, where he discharged the 
duties of acting Brigadier General. 
Congress was now in session in July, 
and the organization of the national 
army of volunteers was proceeding at 
Washington, and at the urgency of 
Washburn, Grant received the commis- 
sion of Brigadier General. He was 
now placed in command of the district 
of southeastern Missouri, including the 
neighboring territory at the junction of 
the Ohio and Mississippi, with his head- 
quarters at Cairo. He began by ren- 
dering an important service to the 
country. In the nick of time, in ad- 
vance of orders from General Fremont, 
commander of the Western Department, 
and in anticipation of the Confederate 
General Polk, who was bent on appro- 
priating the district, and was about 
moving on from his headquarters below 
at Columbus, Grant detailed a portion 
of his command to take possession of 
Paducah, Kentucky, an important sta- 
tion for military purposes, at the mouth 
of the Tennessee. Thus promptly secur- 
ing this station, he addressed a procla- 
mation to the citizens of Paducah, 
dated Sept. 6th, well qualified by its 
courtesy and finnness to vindicate his 
course in allaying the jealousies, and at 
the same time repressing any hostility 
which might be expected from the bor- 
der State, a poi-tion of whose territory 



he was occupying. " I am come among 
you," says he, " not as an enemy, Imt 
as your fellow-citizen ; not to maltreat 
you, nor annoy you, but to respect, and 
enforce the rights of all loyal citizens. 
An enemy, in rebellion against our com- 
mon government, has taken possession 
of, and planted his guns on, the soil of 
Kentucky, and fired upon you. Col- 
umbus and Hickman are in his hands. 
He is moving upon your city. I am 
here to defend you against this enemy, 
to assist the authority and sovereignty 
of your government. I have nothing 
to do with opinions, and shall deal only 
^vith armed rebellion and its aiders and 
abettors. You can pursue your usual 
avocations without fear. The strong 
arm of the government is here to pro- 
tect its friends, and to punish its ene- 
mies. Whenever it is manifest that 
you are able to defend yourselves, and 
maintain the authority of the govern- 
ment, and protect the rights of loyal 
citizens, I shall withdraw the forces 
under my command." 

Grant's friend Rawlins joined him at 
Cairo, as assistant adjutant general. A 
participation in friendship and military 
duty continued during the struggle, 
and which, at the present writing (1869) 
hag culminated in his appointment in 
the ,cal)inet of the president as Secre- 
tary of War. 

In November, Fremont having taken 
the field on the Arkansas border, where 
he was opposed to the rebel general 
Price, ordered Grant to make a demon- 
stration in the direction of Columbus 
to prevent the co-operation of Polk 
with the enemy in Arkansas. Grant, 
accordingly gathering his newly re- 
cruited forces, about three thousand 



216 



ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. 



intMi, oinltnrkod with tlu'iu on trans- 
ports ou tlu' lltli, and niDvod down the 
river. Resting tor the night at a point 
on the shore, he learnt that Polk had 
thivwn over a tort-e tVoni Colunilms to 
Belmont, iiuniod lately opposite ou the 
Missouri side. To cjirry out the objeet 
of the expedition, and to ttjst the valor 
of his troops, he resolved upon an at- 
tack. He landed his men about three 
miles above Belmont, out of range of 
the guns at Coliunbus, and leaving a 
batallion of infantry to protect his 
boats, advanced on the enemy's camp, 
where General Pillow had concentrated 
about twentytive hundred men. fleet- 
ing the confederates on the way, the 
land was swampy and covered with 
timber, there was considerable miscel- 
laneons firing, in which Grant's horse 
was shot under him. This was carried 
ou through the morning hours, ending 
in a determined push upon the enemy, 
and the capture of their camp, with its I 
artillery and personal spoils. The raw ; 
recruits, elated by success, began the 
work of j^luniler, and pi'eseutly the 
tents were set on fire. As all this was 
visilde at headquarters at Columbus, 
Polk directed his guns at the spot and 
brought over reinforcements to inter- 
cept the Union troops on their return, 
which Grant and his officers, fully 
awaj'e of the situation, with energy, 
though not without dltHculty were 



conducting. 



The men were brought 



through a tire of skirmishers to the 
boats, carrying oft' a number of prison- 
ers, with all possible care for the wountl- 
ed, Grant being the last man on the 
bank to re-embark. It is said that 
while he was riding slowly along in the 
dresa of a private, he wiis poiuteil out 



by G^eneral Polk, as a target to his men, 
who were too intent on liring upun the 
crowded transports to take advantage 
of this opportunity within their reach. 
This was the battle, as it was (ernicd, 
of Belmont, with the result which fully 
justified the movement, a lieavy loss 
having been inflicted on the enemy, in 
killed, uountlod, and prisoners, the in- 
dicated diversion having been etl'ected, 
and what was more, at tlie time, in the 
words of Grant in a private let tor to 
his father inimediately after the enirago- 
ment : "confidence ha vini; been siven 
in the officers and men of tl»is com- 
mand that will enable us to lead them 
in any future engagement, without feju' 
of the result." 

The next military movement of con- 
sequence in which Grant was engaged, 
grew (mt of his timely proceeding in 
gaining command of the Tennessee 
river at Paduoah. llalleek was now 
Grant's superior in the Western de- 
})artnient, and was planning a compre- 
hensive scheme of attack upon the 
enemy on the Kentucky and Ter.nessee 
frontier, proportionate to the impor- 
tance and magnitude which the conflict 
had now assumed. 

January, 18tj2, saw these plans per- 
fected ; the design was to dislodge the 
enemy on the upper waters of the Ten- 
nessee and the C'umberland, and thus 
gain possession of the river communi- 
cation with the interior. Grant moved 
with a land force on the 2nd of Feb- 
ruar)', ascending the Tennessee in trans- 
ports from Pailucah, supported by a 
flotilla of gunboats under Com. Foote. 
Foit Henry was the immediate object 
of attack, and the position was gained 
in the prelimimuy assault by the gun- 



ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. 



217 



boats in a close encounter, General Til- 
man, the commander of the ji'arnson, 
makin<;r a timely escape with his men 
to Fort Donelson, distant but twelve 
miles on the Cuniljerland, wliich thus 
far pursued a parallel course witli the 
Tenneseee. Grant now saw his oppor- 
tunity to strike a bh^w by advanc- 
ing immediately upon Fort Donelson. 
With characteristic energy he would 
have moved at once, Itut was prevented 
by a rising of the Tennessee, which put 
the roads under water, and made them 
impracticable for artillery. On the 
12tli, he moved upon the position, and 
began the investment of the place. 
Weather of intense severity set in, and 
the men suffered fearfully from expo- 
sure ; still the wor-k went on, with sharp 
skirmishing, reinforcements meanwhile 
arriving, and Foote bringing up his 
gunboats on the Cumberland. An at- 
tack of the latter upon the works, fail- 
ed of success, on account of the high 
position of the enemy's guns above the 
river. On the 15th, theencmy despair- 
ing of maintaining their position, though 
numbering a large force, ably defended 
by artillery, attacked the i-ight of 
the investing army, held by McCler- 
nand. They had gained some advan- 
vaniage when Grant came upon the 
ground, arriving fi-ora an interview 
with Foote. Detecting by his militar-y 
sagacity, from the fact that the prison- 
ers' haversacks were filled with ration.s, 
the intention of the enemy to cut their 
way out, he resolved upon an immedi- 
ate assault upon the works, ordering 
the veteran General C. F. Smith in com- 
mand on the left, to begin the attack. 
This was made late in the afternoon 
with great gallantry, and ended in 



Smith's gaining a position which com- 
mandiid the fort. That night the crx-rny 
evacuated the position, the rebel gen- 
erals Floyd and Pillow escaping with 
a large portion of the force by boats 
up the river, leaving Gener-al Eirckner 
to arr'ange the conditions of surrender. 
lie accordingly, at daylight on the morn, 
ing of the ICth, sent a dispatch to Gen- 
eral Grant proposing an armistice with 
a view of entei-inir on riej^otiatlons. 
To this Gr-ant on the night after sent 
the following reply : " Yours of this 
date proposing armistice, an appoint- 
ment of commissioner's to settle terms 
of capitulation, is just received. No 
terms except an unconditiorral and im- 
mediately surrender can be accepted. 
I propo.se to move immediately upon 
your works" Stript of his troops by 
the flight of the rebel-generals, Buck- 
ner had no choice left, but submission. 
The LFnited States flag was raised at 
Fort Donelson, and fourteen thousand 
prisoners were transported to Cairo. 
For that good day's work Grant was 
made a major-general of volunteers. 

Notwithstanding Grant's brilliant 
success at Donelson, his character ap- 
pears to have been so little understood 
by General Ilalleck that after several 
annoying complaints Grant felt com- 
pelled to ask to be relieved from fur- 
ther duty in the department. This 
however Ilalleck would not accept and 
ordered a disposition of the forces 
which soon brought Grant again into 
action. Two months later occurred the 
battle of Pittsburgh Landing, on the 
Tennessee River. Under the orders of 
his superior. Grant had brought to- 
gether at this ]»]ace all the troops in 
his command, numbering 38,000 men, 



218 



ULYSSES SIMPSON GR.VNT. 



and lie was expecting Biiell from Nash- 
ville to join him with about the same 
number. The enemy was assembling 
his forces at Corinth, an important rail- 
way junction twenty miles distant. 
Exaggerated reports of their strength 
were current in the Union Camp, and 
as the position was badly defended, and 
an immediate attack was feared Gr.iiit 
began ti> look with anxiety for the ar- 
rival of his reinforcements. At last, on 
the 6th, of April the van of Buell's 
army reached the Tennessee a few miles 
below the camp, and were ordered to 
hold themselves in readiness for imme- 
diate action, as skirmishing had already 
commenced. On Sunday the (5th of 
April, the rebel General A. S. Johnson 
made an attack in force. General Pren- 
tiss was in command of that side of the 
camp where the attack began, and he 
had only time to form his line before 
he was driven back by the advancing 
columns. The field was soon swept by 
the enemy and the Union forces push- 
ed to the river where they were par- 
tially protected by the gunboats. The 
reinforcements which had arrived the 
day before, and the rest of Buell's 
army which had followed them, did 
not come upon the ground until too 
late to be of service on that day. At 
the beginning of the battle. General 
Grant was at his headquarters at Sa- 
vannah, but hearing of the action, im- 
mediately reached the ground and was 
encased on the field in the afternoon 
in rallying his broken divisions. When 
he perceived that the ardor of the 
enemy's attack had somewhat abated, 
and that they did not pursue their ad- 
vantage as they might, ho deteiiiiiiied 
to renew tlie tigiit on the next morning, 



believing, as he said, that in such cir- 
cumstances when both sides were near- 
ly worn out, the one that first showed 
a bold front would win. Such was his 
determination, when the arrival of 
Buell's 20,000 fresh troops placed the 
hoped for success almost bejond a 
doubt. The next day the fight was 
ai'cordingly resumed, and after a series 
of severe contests, Beauregard, who 
had succeeded to the command of 
General Johnson, who was kilUd 'n 
the first day's engagement, retu'ed with 
his army to Corinth. The fatigue ot 
the troops, and the roads rendered im- 
passible by the showers of rain, made 
pursuit impossible. 

Soof after this, General Halleck, the 
head of the department, took the field, 
and Grant became second in command. 
After the evacuation of Corinth by the 
enemy, when Halleck was calleil to 
Washington, as General-in-Chief, the 
force w4iich had been gathered on the 
Tennessee was di\ ided up into differ- 
ent commands. Buell was sent with 
his army to the east, and General Grant 
was assigned to the army of West Ten- 
nessee. The battles of luka, and the 
second battle of Corinth, in Sejjtember 
and October, proved the successful man- 
agement of hia department. His com- 
mand having been greatly increased, 
he established his head(|uarters, in De- 
cember, at Holly Springs in Mississippi, 
and henceforth was engaged in the ar- 
duous operations in that State, which 
for many months employed the forces 
on the Mi;-:sissij)pi, till final victory 
crowned their ettbrts in the capture of 
Vicks])urg, with its garrison, a triumph 
doubly niemorabU' l)y its association 
with the day of independence — the full 



ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. 



219 



surrender being made and the flag rais- 
ed over tlie vaunted stronghold on the 
4th of July, 1863. The campaign of 
General Grant immediately preceding 
the close investment of the city gained 
him the highest reputation as a com- 
mander, at home and abroad. After 
the Union forces had been disappoint- 
ed in repeated efforts to take the city 
with its formidable works by direct as- 
sault or near approach, General Grant, 
at the end of April, landed a force on 
the Mississippi shore, about sixty miles 
below, defeated the enemy at Port Gib- 
son, thus turning Grand Gulf,' which 
consequently was abandoned to the 
naval force on the river ; advanced into 
the interior, again defeated the enemy 
at Raymond, on the 12th of May ; 
moved on and took possession of Jack- 
son, the capital of the State; then 
marched westward towards Vicksburg, 
defeating the forces General Pem- 
berton, the commander of that post, 
sent out to meet him, at Baker's Creek 
and again at Black River Bridge. All 
this was the work of a few days, the 
eighteenth of the month bringing the 
army in the immediate vicinity of 
Vicksburg, in command of all its com- 
munications with the interior. The 
siege followed ; it was conducted with 
eminent steadfastness and ability, and 
surrendered as we have stated in an 
unconditional triumph. For this emi- 
nent service. General Grant was pro- 
moted Major-General in regular army. 
This great success finally determined 
Grant's position before the country, and 
the estimation in which he was now 
held was all the more enthusiastic and 
secure in consequence of the distrust 
which in spite of his successes, had in 



a great degree attended his course. It 
had in fact been with difficulty that he 
had been retained in his command be- 
fore Vicksburg ; and it had been wholly 
owing to his self reliance that he had 
carried out his own plan of throwing 
himself in his final successful move- 
ment upon the passage of the river be- 
low the foi-tress. President Lincoln 
unreservedly acknowledged Grant's su- 
perior prescience and his own want of 
confidence. When all was over and the 
Mississippi was virtually opened to the 
sea he wi'ote to the Genei-al, " When 
you got below and took Port Gibson, 
Grand Gulf, and vicinity, I thought 
you would go down the river and join 
General Banks ; and when you hurried 
northward east of the Big Black, I 
feared it was a mistake. I now wish 
to make the personal acknowledgement 
that you wei-e right and I was wrong." 
This period also practically saw an end 
on the part of his opponents of the scan- 
dal which had at different times been re- 
vived against Grant on the charge of 
intemperance in drinking. During the 
protracted siege of Vicksburg an im- 
patient grumbler, we are told by Rich- 
ardson, demanded his removal from 
the President. "For what reason?" 
asked Lincoln. " Because he drinks so 
much whiskey," " Ah ! yes," was the 
reply, " by the way can you tell me 
where he gets his whiskey ? He has 
given us about all the successes, and if 
his whiskey does it, I should like to 
send a barrel of the same brand to 
every General in the field."- In fact 
Grant, as his biographer just cited 
states, " was never under the influence 
of di-inkiug to the direct or indirect 
detriment of the service for a single 



220 



ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. 



raoment, and after the restoration of 
peiice planted his feet on the safe and 
solid c^round of total abstinence. " 

In October, (^rant \vas aijain called to 
the field. Rosoeians had been badly 
defeated by Bragg and Longstreet at 
Chiekaniauga in Tennessee, and Thomas 
who had superseded him \v:us now close 
ly hemmed in by the enemy at Chatta- 
nooga. Grant, while on a visit to New 
Orleans in the summer, had been thrown 
by a restive horse, sustaining severe 
bruises which confined him to his bed 
for several weeks, and at the time he 
received his orders to join the army of 
the Tennessee, he was only able to 
move about on crutches, but his bodily 
sutiering in no way subdued his char- 
acteristic energy. He immediately 
brought up Sherman with a laige rein- 
forcement, and at the same time Hooker 
with his army was sent by Genend 
Halleck fi-om Virginia. In the succeed- 
ing battle of Chattanoosra (xrant at- 
tacked the enemy in his own position, 
and after a series of conflicts, among 
the severest in the war, the Union 
troops led by Hooker and Sherman 
drove the rebels from their lines, forc- 
ing Bragg to retreat into Georgia, and 
thus exposing the centre of the Confed- 
erate States. 

In consequence of these l)rilliant suc- 
cesses, the grade of Lieutenant-General 
was revived by Congress and conferred 
upon General Grant. He was now 
Commander-in-chief of all the armies 
of the United States. That he fully 
appreciated how much in attaining this 
rank he owed to his subordinates, is 
shown by the following letter address- 
ed to Sherman on quiting the west. 
After announcing his promotion, he says 



" Whilst I have been eminently success 
ful in this war, in at least gaining the 
confidence of the public, no one feels 
more than I, how much of this success 
is due to the energy, skill, and harmo- 
nious putting forth of that energy and 
skill of those whom it is my good for- 
tune to have occupying subordinate po- 
sitions under me. 

" There are many officers to whom 
these remarks are applicable to a great- 
er or less degree, proportionate to their 
ability as soldiers ; but what I want is, 
to express my thanks to you and to 
M'Pherson, as the men to whom, above 
all others, I feel indebted for whatever 
I have had of success. 

" How far your advice and assistance 
have been of help to me you know. 
How far your execution of whatever 
has been given to you to do, entitles 
you to the reward I am receiving, you 
cannot know as well as I. 

" I feel all the gratitude this letter 
would express, giving it the most flat- 
tering construction. 

'' The word you I use in the plural, 
intending it for M'Pherson also."' 

Grant had now the whole country 
before him to chose his own field of 
operations. His fii-st thoughts were 
turned to Georgia, where the oppor- 
tunities opened up by the success at 
Chattanooi'a invited him to a cam- 
paigu in the interior, but looking round 
he saw that the head and front of the 
rebellion was still at Richmond, and ho 
determined to face the enemy ttpon 
the ground where, hitherto undefeated, 
a victory gained over him would be 
most decisive in breaking the power of 
the Confederacy. 

Grant's design was now to make a 



ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. 



221 



simultaneous attack along the whole 
Union line, from the James River 
to New Orleans. He took the com- 
mand of the army of the Potomac 
in person, and moved from his head- 
quarters at Culpepper Court-House on 
the 4th of May, with the object of 
putting himself between Richmond and 
Lee's army which was then a few miles 
distant at Orange Court-House. The 
enemy, however, apprised of his move- 
ment, fell upon his flank and the two 
days fighting in the Wilderness that 
ensued were among the bloodiest 
conflicts of the war. Grant barely 
held his ground, but although the loss- 
es he sustained were as gieat as those 
which had driven Hooker and Meade 
back to Washington, he held on to the 
design of cutting the rebel line, and 
before the last gun was fired in the 
Wilderness, his front had aa-ain en- 
countered Lee's troops at Spottsylvania. 
Here the contest was renewed, and 
lasted with various movements and 
great slaughter for twelve days. It 
was now evident that success, however 
determined the onset, and with what- 
ever sacrifice of life, was not to be de- 
termined by a first or a second blow. 
Grant, however, was not to be deten-ed 
from his purpose, which he expressed 
in a memorable despatch. " I propose 
to fight it out on this line if it takes 
all summer." The line, however, as 
at another earlier crisis of the war, 
proved not so direct as was anticipated 
by the public, which learnt only by de- 
grees the full measure of the enemy's 
strength and resolution. By a flank 
movement. Grant now directed his 
forces to strategic points of importance 
on the road to Richmond, successfully 



accomplisliing though not without op- 
position the passage of the North Anna 
to encamp again on the old battle- 
grounds of McClellan. The struggle 
was renewed in a desperate })ut imprac- 
ticable assault on the enemy's line at 
Chickahominy. 

From this point the contest was 
rapidly transferred to the James River; 
Petersburg was investe<l and the effort 
henceforth was to command the enemy's 
supplies and draw closer the lines of 
the siege by cutting off his communica- 
tions by railroad with the granai'ies of 
the South. When that region was de- 
vastated by the march of Sherman to 
the sea, and the force of the Rebellion in 
men and provisions was fairly exhaust- 
ed, then, and not till then, he jnelded 
to the steady and repeated blows of 
Grant and his generals. The surren- 
der took place at Appomattox Court- 
House, on the 9th of April, 1865, in a 
personal interview between the two 
commanders. Grant accepting liberal 
terms of capitulation. 

These successes of Grant in the field, 
in terminating the war, with the good 
sense and ability, mingled firmness 
and moderation which he had uniform- 
ly displayed as a leader of events, mark- 
ed him out as the inevitable candidate 
for the presidency of the party to 
whom had fallen the conduct of the 
war. The interval which elapsed saw 
him steadily engaged at Washington, 
occupied w' ith his duties as Lieutenant- 
General, and for a short time during 
the suspension of Stanton acting Sec- 
retary of War. 

When the Republican National Con- 
vention met at Chicago in May, 18(J8, 
Grant was unanimously nominated for 



0-22 



IJLYSSKS SIMPSON GRANT. 



the i)resideucy on tbe first ballot. In 
bis letter of acceptance, after endorsing 
tbe resolutions of tbe Convention, be 
added, — " If elected to tbe ofiice of 
President of tbe United States, it will 
be my endeavor to administer all tbe 
laws in good faitb, witb economy, and 
witb tbe view of g-iving peace, (piiet, 
and ])rotectiou everywhere. In times 
like the present, it is impossible, or at 
least eminently improper, to lay down a 
policy to be adhered to, right or wrong, 
through an administration of four 
years. New political issues not fore- 
seen, are constantly arising ; the views 
of the public on old ones are constantly 
changing, and a purely administrative 
office should always be left free to exe- 
cute tbe will of the people. I always 
Lave respected that will, and always 
shall. 

" Peace, and univereal prosperity — 
its sequence, witb economy of admin- 
istration, will lighten tbe burden of 
taxation, while it constantly reduces 
the national debt. Let us have peace." 

At the election in November, Grant 
was chosen President by tbe vote of 
twenty-six states ; Mississippi, Florida, 
Texas, and Virginia not voting, and 
tbe Democrats carrying Delaware, 
Georgia, Kentucky, Louisiana, ]\Iary- 
land. New Jersey, New York, and 
Oregon ; his popular majority over 
Horatio Seymour, in the direct vote, 
being something over three hundred 
thousand. 

President Grant's inaugural address 
on assuming tbe Presidency was mark- 
ed l>v a tone of moderation and defer- 



ence to the will of tbe jieople as ex- 
pressed in the Acts of Congress. His 
administration has been in accord witb 
their measures. Amoui' the leadinir 
leatures of its domestic j)oHcy, has been 
tbe gradual restoration to the South of 
its privileges, forfeited by tbe necessi- 
ties of tlie war, and tbe reduction of 
tbe national debt ; while its foreign 
policy has secured the negotiation of 
tbe treaty of arbitration witb England 
for the settlement of claims, arising 
from tbe negligence or wrong-doing of 
that country in relation to certain ques- 
tions of international law, during tbe 
Southern rebellitm. When, in 1872, at 
tbe ajjproacbiug conclusion of bis term 
of office, a new nomination was to be 
made for tbe Presidency, be was again 
chosen by tbe convention of tbe Re- 
publican party as their candidate. 

The result of the election was equal- 
ly decided witb that following bis 
first nomination. He received tbe 
vote of thirty-one states, with a popu- 
lar majority, over Horace Greeley, of 
762,991. Tbe second inauguration on 
tbe 4th of March, 1873, though the 
day was severely cold, was celdu-ated 
by an imposing civil and military i>ro- 
cession, witb a large attendance at tbe 
capitol. In his address, tbe President 
alluded to the restoration of tbe South- 
ern States to their federal relations; 
the new policy adopted towards the 
Indians; the civil service rules, and 
other topics of foreign and domestic 
administration, witb a general refer- 
ence to tbe tendency of the world to- 
wards Republicanism. 



Chronological List of the Presidents and Vice-Presidents of the U. S. 



The First Administration-1789 to 1797-Eight Years. 

PRESIDENTB. VICE-Pl:E8IDBNT8. 

GEORGE WASHINGTON, Virginia. JOHN ADAMS, Massachusetts. 

The Second Administration— 1797 to 1801— Four Years. 
JOHN ADxVMS, Massacliusetts. THOMAS JEFFERSON, Virginia. 

The Third Admlnistration-1801 to 1809-Eight Years. 
THOMAS JEFFERSON, Virginia. AARON BURR, New York. 

GEORGE CLINTON, New York. 
The Fourth Administration— 1809 to 1817— Eight Years. 
JAMES MADISON, Virginia. GEORGE CLINTON, New York. 

ELBRIDGE GERRY, Massachusette. 
The Fifth Administration— 1817 to 1825-Eight Years. 
JAMES MONROE, Virginia. DANIEL D. TOMPKINS, New York. 

The Sixth Administration— 1825 to 1829-Four Years. 
JOHN QUINCY ADAMS, Massacliusetts. JOHN C. CALHOUN, South Carolina. 

The Seventh Administration— 1829 to 1837-Eight Years. 
ANDREW JACKSON, Tennessee. JOHN C. CALHOUN, South Carolina. 

MARTIN VAN BUREN, New York. 

The Eighth Administration— 1837 to 184-1- Four Years. 
MARTIN VAN BUREN, New York. RICHARD M. JOHNSON, Kentucky. 

The Ninth Administration— 1841 to 1845— Four Years. 
WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON, Ohio. (Died JOHN TYLER, Virginia. 

April 4, 18il.) 
JOHN TYLER, Va., (from April 4, 1841). 

The Tenth Administration— 1845 to 1849— Four Years. 
JAMES K. POLK, Tennessee. GEORGE M. DALLAS, Pennsylvania. 

The Eleventh Administration— 1849 to 1853-Four Years. 

ZACHARY TAYLOR, Louisiana. (Died July MILLARD FILLMORE, New York. 

9, 1850.) 
MILLARD FILLMORE, New York. (From 
July 9, 1850.) 

The Twelfth Administration— 1853 to 1857- Four Years. 
FRANKLIN PIERCE, New Hampshire. WILLLYM R. KING, Alabama. (Died 

April 18, 1853.) 

The Thirteenth Administration— 1857 to 1861— Four Years. 
JAMES BUCHANAN, Pennsylvania. JOHN C. BRECKENRIDGB, Kentucky. 

The Fourteenth Administration— 1861 to 1869— Eight Years. 
ABRAHAM LI.VCOLN, Illinois. HANNIBAL HAMLIN, Maine. 

ABRAHAM LINCOLN, (Assassinated, 2d Term, 

April 15, 1865.) Succeeded by ANDREW JOHNSON, Tennessee. 

ANDREW JOHNSON, Tennessee. (From 
April 15, 1865.) 

The Fifteenth Administration— 1869 to 1873— Four Years. 
ULYSSES S. GRANT. Illinois. SCHUYLER COLFAX, Indiana. 

Entered on liis Second term 

March 4, 1873. HENRY WILSON, Massachusettei. 



224 



CONSTITUTION OF THE UNTrED STATES. 



THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED 
STATES. 
We, the people of the United States, 
in order to form a more perfect union, 
establish justice, ensure domestic tran- 
quillity, provide for the common de- 
fence, promote the general welfare, 
and secure the blessings of liberty to 
oui-selves and our posterity, do ordain 
and establish this Constitution for the 
United States of America. 

ARTICLE I. 

Sect. 1. All legislative powers here- 
in granted, shall be vested in a Con- 
gress of the United States, which shall 
consist of a senate and house of re])- 
resentatives. 

Sect. 2. The house of representa- 
tives shall be composed of membere 
chosen every second year by the 
people of the several states; and the 
electors in each state, shall have the 
qualifications requisite for electors of 
the most numerous branch of the state 
legislatm-e. 

No person shall be a representative, 
who shall not have attained to the age 
of twenty-five years, and been seven 
years a citizen of the United vStates, 
and who shall not, when elected, be an 
inhabitant of that state in which he 
shall be chosen. 

Representatives and direct taxes 
shall be apportioned among the sev- 
eral states which may be included 
within this union, according to their 
respective numbei-s, which shall be de- 
termined, by adding to the whole num- 
ber of free pei-sons, including those 
bound to service for a term of years, 
and excluding Indians not taxed, three- 
fifths of all other persons. The actual 



enumeration shall be made within 
three years after the first meeting of 
the Congress of the United States, and 
within every subsequent term of ten 
years, in such manner as they shall by 
law direct. The number of represent- 
atives shall not exceed one for eveiy 
thirty thousand, but each state shall 
have, at least, one representative ; and 
until such enumeration shall be made, 
the state of New Ilanipsliire shall be 
entitled to choose three, Massachusetts 
eight, Ixhode Island and Proviilonce 
Plantations one, Connecticut five, New 
York six, New Jersey four, Pennsyl- 
vania eight, Delaware one, Maryland 
six, Virginia ten, North Carolina five. 
South Carolina five, and Georgia three. 

When vacancies happen in the rep- 
resentation from any state, the exoou- 
tive authority thereof shall issue writs 
of election to fill such vacancies. 

The house of representatives shall 
choose their speaker and other officers ; 
and shall have the sole power of im- 
peachment. 

Sect. 3. The senate of the United 
States shall be composed of two sena- 
toi-s from each state, chosen by the 
legislature thereof, for six yeai-s ; and 
each senator shall have one vote. 

Immediately after they shall be as- 
sembled in consequence of the fii-st 
election, they shall be di\'ided, as 
equally as may be into three classes. 
The seats of the senators of the first cla^e 
shall be vacated at the expiration of 
the second year, of the second class at 
the expiration of the fourth year, and 
of the third class at the expiration of 
the sixth year, so that one third may 
be chosen every second year; and if 



CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. 



225 



vacancies happen by resignation or 
otherwise, during the recess of the 
legislature of any state, the executive 
thereof may make temporary appoint- 
ments until the next meeting of the 
legislature, which shall then fill such 
vacancies. 

No person shall be a senator who 
shall not have attained to the ag© of 
thirty years, and been nine years a 
citizen of the United States, and who 
shall not, when elected, be an inhabit- 
ant of that state for which he shall be 
chosen. 

The vice president of the United 
States shall be president of the senate, 
but shall have no vote, unless they be 
equally divided. 

The senate shall choose their other 
officers, also a president pro tempore, 
in the absence of the vice president, 
or when he shall exercise the office of 
president of the United States. 

The senate shall have the sole power 
to try all impeachments. When sitting 
for that purpose, they shall be on oath 
or affirmation. When the president 
of the United States is tried, the chief 
justice shall preside ; and no person 
shall be convicted without the concur- 
rence of two-thirds of the members 
present. 

Judgment in cases of impeachment 
shall not extend further than to re- 
moval from office, and disqualification 
to hold and enjoy any office of honor, 
trust, or profit, under the United 
States ; but the party convicted shall 
nevertheless be liable and subject to 
indictment, trial, judgment, and pun- 
ishment, according to law. 

Sect. 4. The times, places and man- 



ner of holding elections for senators 
and representatives, shall be prescribed 
in each state by the legislature there- 
of; but the Congress may at any time, 
by law, make or alter such regulations, 
except as to the places of choosing sen- 
atora. 

The Congress shall assemble at least 
once in every year, and such meeting 
shall be on the firet Monday in Decem- 
ber, unless they shall by law appoint a 
different day. 

Sect. 5. Each house shall be the 
judge of the elections, returns, and 
qualifications, of its own members ; and 
a majority of each shall constitute a 
quorum to do business ; but a smaller 
number may adjourn from day to day, 
and may be authorized to compel the 
attendance of absent members, in such 
manner, and under such penalties as 
each house may provide. 

Each house may determine the lodes 
of its proceedings, punish its membere 
for disorderly behavior, and, with the 
concurrence of two-thirds, expel a 
member. 

Each house shall keep a journal of 
its proceedings, and from time to time 
publish the same, excepting such parts 
as may, in their judgment, require 
secrecy ; and the yeas and nays of the 
members of either house on any ques- 
tion, shall, at the request of one fifth 
of those present, be entered on the 
jom'nal. 

Neither house, during the session of 
Congress, shall, without the consent of 
the other, adjourn for more than three 
days, nor to any other place than that 
in which the two houses shall be sitting. 

Sect. G. The senators and represen- 



226 



CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. 



tatives shaD receive a compensation for 
their services, to be ascertained by law, 
and paid out of the treasury of the 
United States. They shall in all cases, 
except treason, felony, and breach of 
the peace, be privileged from arrest 
during their attendance at the session 
of their respective houses, and in going 
to and returning from the same ; and 
for any speech or debate in either 
house, they shall not be questioned in 
any other place. 

No senator or representative shall, 
during the time for which he was 
elected, be appointed to any ci^^l office 
under the authority of the United 
States, which shall have been created, 
or the emoluments whereof shall have 
been increased during such time ; and 
no person holding any office under the 
United States, shall be a member of 
either house during his continuance in 
office. 

Sect. 7. All bills for raising revenue 
shall originate in the house of repre- 
Bentatives; but the senate may pro- 
pose or concur with amendments as on 
other bills. 

Every bill which shall have passed 
the house of representatives and the 
senate, shall, before it become a law, 
be presented to the president of the 
United States. If he approve, he shall 
sign it ; but if not, he shall return it, 
with his objections, to that house in 
which it shall have originated, who 
shall enter the objections at large on 
their journal, and proceed to recon- 
sider it. If, after such reconsideration, 
two-thirds of that house shall agree to 
pa«s the bill, it shall he sent, together 
with the objections, to the other house,. 



by which it shall likewise be recon- 
sidered, and if approved by two-thirds 
of that hoase it shall l)econie a law. 
But in all such cases!, the votes of both 
houses shall be determined by yeas 
and nays, and the names of the per- 
sons voting for and against the bill 
shall be entered on the journal of each 
house respectively. If any bill sliall 
not be retunied by the president within 
ten days, (Sundays excepted) after it 
shall have been presented to him, the 
same shall be a law, in like manner as 
if he had signed it, unless the Congress, 
by their adjom-nment prevent its re- 
turn, in which case it shall not be a 
law. 

Every order, resolution, or vote, (o 
which the concun-ence of the senate 
and house of representatives may ba 
necessary, (except on a question of ad- 
journment) shall be presented to the 
president of the United States; and 
before the same shall take effect, shall 
be approved by him, or, being disap- 
proved by him, shaU be repassed by 
two-thirds of the senate and house of 
representatives, according to the rules 
and limitations prescnbcd in the case 
of a bill. 

Sect. 8. The Congi-ess shall have 
power — 

To lay and collect taxes, duties, im- 
posts, and excises: 

To pay the debts and pro\nde for the 
common defence and general welfare 
of the United States; but all duties, 
imposts, and excises, shall be uniform 
throughout the United States : 

To borrow money on the credit of 
of the United States : 

To regulate commerce with foreign 



CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. 



227 



nations, and among the several states, 
and with the Indian tribes : 

To establish a uniform rule of natu- 
ralization, and uniform laws on the 
subject of baukraptcies throughout the 
United States : 

To coin money, regulate the value 
thereof, and of foreign coin, and fix the 
standard of weights and measures : 

To provide for the punishment of 
counterfeiting the securities and cur- 
rent coin of the United States : 

To establish post offices and post 
roads : 

To promote the progress of science 
and useful arts, by securing for limited 
times, to authors and inventors, the 
exclusive right to theu' respective writ- 
ings and discoveries : 

To constitute tribunals inferior to 
the supreme court: 

To define and punish piracies and 
felonies committed on the high seas, 
and ofiences against the law of nations : 

To declare war, to grant letters of 
marque and reprisal, and make rules 
concerning captures on land and water : 

To raise and support armies ; but no 
appropriation of money to that use 
shall be for a longer term than two 
years : 

To provide and maintain a navy : 

To make rules for the government 
and regulation of the land and naval 
forces : 

To provide for calling forth the 
militia to execute the laws of the 
union, suppress insurrections, and repel 
invasions : 

To provide for organizing, arming, 
and disciplining the militia, and for 
governing such part of them as may 



be employed in the service of the 
United States — reserving to the states 
respectively, the appointment of the 
officers, and the authority of training 
the militia according to the discipline 
prescribed by Congress : 

To exercise exclusive legislation in 
all cases whatsoever, over such district 
(not exceeding ten miles square) as 
may, by cession of particular states, 
and the acceptance of Congi-ess, become 
the seat of government of the United 
States, and to exercise like authority 
over all places purchased, by the consent 
of the legislature of the state in which 
the same shall be, for the erection of 
forts, magazines, arsenals, dock yards, 
and other needful buildings : — and. 

To make all laws which shall be ne- 
cessary and proper for can-ying into 
execution the foregoing powers, and all 
other powers vested by this constitution 
in the government of the United States, 
or in any department or officer thereof. 

Sect. 9. The migration or importar 
tion of such persons as any of the states, 
now existing, shall think proper to ad- 
mit, shall not be prohibited by the 
Congress prior to the year 1808, but a 
tax or duty may be imposed on such 
importation, not exceeding ten doUai-s 
for each person. 

The privilege of the writ of habeas 
corpus shall not be suspended, unless 
when, in cases of rebellion or invasion, 
the public safety may require it. 

No bill of attainder, or ex post facto 
law, shall be passed. 

No capitation, or oth^r direct tax 
shall be laid, unless in proportion to 
the census or enumeration herein bo- 
fore directed to be taken. 



228 



CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES 



No tax or duty shall be laid on 
articles exported from any state. No 
preference shall be given by any regu- 
lation of commerce or revenue to the 
ports of one state over those of another ; 
nor shall vessels bound to, or from one 
state, be obliged to enter, clear, or pay 
duties in another. 

No money shall be di'awn from the 
treasury, but in consequence of appro- 
priations made by law : and a regular 
statement and account of tho receipts 
and expenditures of all public money 
shall be published from time to time. 

No title of nobility shall be granted 
by the United States : and no person 
holding any office of profit or trust 
under them, shaU, without the consent 
of the Congress, accept of any present, 
emolument, office, or title of any kind 
whatever, from any king, prince, or 
foreign state. 

Sect. 10. No state shall enter into 
any treaty, alliance, or confederation ; 
grant letters of marque and reprisal ; 
coin money ; emit bills of credit ; make 
any thing but gold and silver coin a 
tender in payment of debts ; pass any 
bill of attainder, ex post facto law, or 
law impairing the obligation of con- 
tracts, or grant any title of nobility. 

No state shaU, without the consent 
of the Congress, lay any imposts or 
duties on impoi*ts or exports, except 
what may be absolutely necessary for 
executing its inspection laws ; and the 
nett produce of all duties and imposts, 
laid by any state on imports or exports, 
shall be for the use of the treasury of 
the United States ; and all such laws 
shall be subject to the revision and 
control of the Congi-ess. No state shall, 



without the consent of Congress, lay 
any duty of tonnage, keep troops or 
ships of war in time of peace, enter 
into any agreement or compact with 
another state, or with a foreign power, 
or engixge in war, uidess actually in- 
vaded, or in such imminent danger as 
will not admit of delay. 

ARTICLE II. 

Sect. 1. The executive power shall 
be vested in a President of the United 
States of America. He shall hold his 
office during the term of four yeai-s, 
and, together with the Vice President, 
chosen for the same term, be elected 
as follows : 

Each state shall appoint, in such 
manner as the legislature thereof may 
direct, a number of electors equal to 
the whole number of senators and rep- 
resentatives to which the state may 
be entitled in the Congress; but no 
senator or representative, or person 
holding any office of trust or profit 
under the United States, shall be ap- 
pointed an elector. 

The electore shall meet in their 
respective states, and vote by ballot 
for two pereons, of whom one at least 
shall not be an inhabitant of the same 
state with themselves. And they shall 
make a list of all the pei-sons voted for, 
and of the number of votes for each ; 
which list they shall sign and ceitif)-, 
and transmit sealed to the seat of the 
government of the United States, di- 
rected to the president of the senate. 
The president of the senate shall, in the 
presence of the senate and house of rejv 
resentatives, open all the certificates, 
and the votes shall then be counted. 



CONSTITUTION 0¥ THE UNITED STATES. 



22U 



The person having the gi-eatest number 
of votes shall be the president, if such 
number be a majority of the whole 
number of electora appointed ; and if 
there be more than one who have such 
majority, and have an equal number 
of votes, then the house of representa- 
tives shall immediately choose, by bal- 
lot, one of them for president ; and if 
no person have a majority, then from 
the five highest on the list, the said 
house shall, in like manner, choose the 
president. But in choosing the presi- 
dent, the votes shall be taken by states, 
the representation from each state hav- 
ing one vote. A quorum for this pur- 
pose shall consist of a member or 
members from two-thirds of the states, 
and a majority of all the states shall 
be necessary to a choice. In eveiy 
case, after the choice of the president, 
the person having the greatest number 
of votes of the electors shall be the 
vice president. But if there should 
remain two or more who have equal 
votes, the senate shall choose from 
them, by ballot, the vice president. 

The Congress may determine the 
time of choosing the electors, and the 
day on which they shall give their 
votes ; which day shall be the same 
throughout the United States. 

No person, except a natural bom 
citizen, or a citizen of the United 
States at the time of the adoption of 
this constitution, shall be eligible to 
the office of president; neither shall 
any person be eligible to that office, 
who shall not have attained to the age 
of thirty-five years, and been fourteen 
years a resident within the United 
States. 



In case of the removal of the j)resi- 
dent from office, or of his death, resig- 
nation, or inability to discharge the 
powers and duties of the said office, 
the same shall devolve on the vice 
president; and the Congress may by 
law provide for the case of i-emoval, 
death, resignation, or inability, both 
of the president and vice president, 
declaring what officer shall then act as 
president, and such officer shall act ac- 
cordingly until the disability be re- 
moved, or a president shall be elected. 

The president shall, at .stated times, 
receive for his services a compensation, 
which shall neither be increased nor 
diminLshed during the period for which 
he shall have been elected, and he 
shall not receive within that period 
any other emolument from the United 
States, or any of them. 

Before he entera on the execution of 
his office, he shall take the following 
oath or affiimation: 

"I do solemnly swear, (or affirm) 
"that I will faithfully execute the 
"office of president of the United 
"States, and will, to the best of my 
"ability, preserve, protect, and de- 
"fend the constitution of the United 
"States." 

Sect. 2. The president shall be com- 
mander-in-chief of the army and navy 
of the United States, and of the militia 
of the several states, when called into 
the actual sei"vice of the United States; 
he may require the opinion, in writing, 
of the principal officer in each of the 
executive departments, upon any sul> 
ject relating to the duties of their 
respective offices ; and he shall have 
power to grant reprieves and pardons 



230 



CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. 



for ofifeucea against the United States, 
except in cases of impeacbnieut. 

He sbiill liave power, by and with 
the advice and consent of the senate, 
to make treaties, provided two-thirds 
of the senators present concur : and he 
shall nominate, and by and with the 
advice and consent of the senate, shall 
appoint ambassadoi-s, other public min- 
isters, and consuls, judges of the su- 
preme court, and all other officers of 
the United States, whose appointments 
arc not herein otherwise provided for, 
and which shall be established by law. 
But the Congress may by law vest the 
appointment of such inferior officere as 
they think proper in the president 
alone, in the courts of law, or in the 
Leads of departments. 

The president shall have power to 
fill up all vacancies that may happen 
during the recess of the senate, by 
granting commissions, which shall ex- 
pire at the end of their next session. 

Sect. 3. He shall, from time to time, 
give to the Congress information of the 
state of the union, and recommend to 
their consideration such measures as he 
shall judge necessary and expedient ; 
he may, on extraordinary occasions, con- 
vene both houses, or either of them, 
and in case of disagreement between 
them, w^tll respect to the time of ad- 
journment, he may adjourn them to 
such time as he shall think proper ; he 
shall receive ambassadors and other 
public ministers ; he shall take care 
that the laws be faithfully executed ; 
and shall commission all the officers of 
the United States. 

Skct. 4. The president, vice presi- 
denl, ond all civil officers of the United 



States shall be removed from office on 
impeachment for, and conviction of 
treason, bribery, or other high crimes 
and misdemeanors. 

ARTICLE III. 

Sect. 1. The judicial power of the 
United States shall be vested in one 
supreme court, and in such inferior 
courts as the Congress may, from time 
to time, ordain and establish. The 
judges, both of the supreme and in- 
ferior courts, shall hold their offices 
during good behavior; and shall, at 
stated times, receive for their services 
a compensation, which shall not be 
diminished dming their continuance in 
office. 

Sect. 2. The judicial power shall ex- 
tend to all cases in law and equity, 
arising under this constitution, the laws 
of the United States, and treaties made, 
or which shall be made under their 
authority ; to all cases affecting ambas- 
sadors, other public ministei-s, and con- 
suls; to all cases of admiralty and 
maritime jurisdiction ; to controvei-sies 
to which the United States shall be a 
jiarty ; to controversies between two or 
more states, between a state and citi- 
zens of another state, between citizens 
of different states, between citizens of 
the same state, claiming lands under 
grants of different states, and between 
a state, or the citizens thereof, and for- 
eign states, citizens, or subjects. 

In all cases affecting ainbassadoi-s, 
other public ministei's and consuls, and 
those in which a state shall be party, 
the supreme court shall have original 
jurisdiction. In all the other ciises be- 
fore mentioned, the sui^reme court shall 



CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. 



231 



have appellate jurisdiction, both as to 
law and fact, with such exceptions, and 
nnder such regulations as the Congreas 
Bhall make. 

The trial of all crimes, except in 
cases of impeachment, shall be by jury ; 
and such trial shall be held in the state 
where the said crimes shall have been 
committed ; but when not committed 
within any state, the trial shall be at 
such place or places as the Congress 
may by law have directed. 

Sect. 3. Treason against the United 
States shall consist only in levying war 
against them, or in adhering to their 
enemies, giving them aid and comfort. 
No pei-son shall be convicted of treason 
unless on the testimony of two wit- 
nesses to the same overt act, or on con- 
fession in open court. 

The Congress shall have power to 
declare the punishment of treason ; 
but no attainder of treason shall work 
corruption of blood, or forfeiture, ex- 
cept during the life of the person at- 
tainted. 

AETICLE IT. 

Sect. 1. Full faith and credit shall 
be given in each state, to the public 
acts, records, and judicial proceedings 
of every other state. And the Con- 
gress may, by general laws, prescribe 
the manner in which such acts, records 
and proceedings shall be proved, and 
the effect thereof. 

Sect. 2. The citizens of each state 
shall be entitled to all privileges and 
immunities of citizens in the several 
states. 

A person charged in any state with 

treason, felony, or other crime, who 

hall flee fium justice, and be found in 



another state, shall, on demand of the 
executive authority of the state from 
which he fled, be delivered up, to be 
removed to the state having jurisdic- 
tion of the crime. 

No person held to service or labor 
in one state, under the laws thereof, 
escaping into another, shall, in conse- 
quence of any law or regidation therein, 
be discharged from such service or 
labor; but shall be delivered up, on 
claim of the party to whom such ser- 
vice or labor may be due. 

Sect. 3. New states may be admitted 
by the Congi-ess into this union ; but 
no new state shall be formed or erected 
within the juiisdiction of any other 
state, nor any state be formed by the 
junction of two or more states, or parts 
of states, without the consent of the 
legislatures of the states concerned, as 
well as of the Congress. 

The Congress shall have power to 
dispose of and make all needful rules 
and regulations respecting the territory 
or other property belonging to the 
United States; and nothing in this 
constitution shall be so construed as to 
prejudice any claims of the United 
States, or of any particular state. 

Sect. 4. The United States shall 
guarantee to every state in this imion 
a republican form of government, and 
shall protect each of them against in 
vasion ; and on application of the leg- 
islature, or of the executive (when the 
legislature cannot be convened) against 
domestic violence. 

ARTICLE T. 

Tlie Congress, whenever two-thirda 
of l»uth hoases .shall deem it necessary. 



232 



CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. 



shall propose amendments to this con- 
stitution ; or, on the npj)lication of the 
legislatures of two-thirds of the several 
Btates, shall call a convention for pro- 
posing amendments, which, in either 
case, shall be valid to all intents and 
purposes, as part of this constitution, 
when ratified by the legislatures of 
three-fourths of the several states, or 
by conventions in three-fourths thereof, 
as the one or the other mode of ratifi- 
cation may be proposed by the Con- 
gress : Provided, that no amendment 
which may be made prior to the year 
1808, shall in any manner aftect the 
first and fourth clauses in the ninth 
section of the first article ; and that 
no state, without its consent, shall be 
deprived of its equal suffrage in the 
senate. 

ARTICLE VI. 

All debts contracted and engage- 
ments entered into, before the adoption 
of this constitution, shall be as valid 
against the United States under this 
constitution as under the confederation. 

This constitution, and the laws of 
the United States which shall be made 
in pursuance thereof; and all treaties 
made, or which shall be made, under 
the authority of the United States, 
shall be the supreme law of the land ; 
and the judges in every state shall be 
hound thereby, any thing in the con- 
stitution or laws of any state to the 
contrary notwithstanding. 

The senators and representatives 
before mentioned, and the members of 
the several state legislatures, and all 
executive and judicial officci*s, both of 
the United States and of tlie several 
status, shall be bound by oath or affir- 



mation, to support this constitution; 
but no religious t.est shall ever lie re- 
quired as a qualification to any office 
or public trust under the United States. 

ARTICLE VII. 

The ratification of the conventions 
of nine states shall l)e sufficient fi)r the 
establishment of this constitution be- 
tween the states so ratifying the same. 

Done in convention, by the unanimous consenl 
of the states present, the 17th day of Septem- 
ber, in the year of our Lord 1787, and of 
the independence of the United Stiitcs of 
America, the twelfth. In witness whereof, 
we have hereunto subscribed our names. 
GEORGE WASHINGTON, 

President, 
And deputy from Vir</in!ii. 



Kew HampMre. 
JOITN LANGDON, 
NICUOLAS OILMAN, 

Maanaehtuiettii. 
NATHANIEL GOKIUM, 
RtJFUS KING. 

Connecticitt. 
WILLIAM SAMUEL 

JOUNSON. 
ROGER SHERMAN. 



Delaware. 
GEORGE READ, 
GUNNING BEDFORD, Jim. 
JOHN DICKINSON, 
RICHARD BASSEIT, 
JACOB BROOM. 

3fan/land. 
JAMES MIIENRY, 
DANIEL OF ST. THOMAS 

JENIFER, 
DANIEL CARROLL. 



^ew Yorlc. Virffinia. 

ALEXANDER HAMIL- JOHN BLAIR, 

TON. JAMES MADISON, Jon. 

^eie Jersey. North Carolina, 

WILLLV5I LIVINGSTON, WILLIAM BLOUNT, 

DA^^D BRE;\.RLY, RICHARD DOBBS 

WILLIAM PATTERSON, SPAIGHT, 

JONATHAN DAYTON. HUGH WILLIAMSON. 

Pennsylvania. South Carolina. 

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, JOHN RUTLEDGE, 

THOMAS MIFFLIN, CHARLES COTESWORTU 

ROBERT MORRIS, PINCKNEY, 

GEORGE OLYMER, CHARLBS PINCKNET, 

TII0SLV3 FITZS1MON3, PIERCE BUTLER. 
JARED INGERSOLL, 

JAMES WILSON, Oe-n-ffia. 

GOUVERNEUR MORRia WILLIAM FEW, 

ABRAHAM BALDWIN. 
Attest 
WiLUAU Jacksun, Secretary. 



AMENDMENTS TO THE CONSTITUTION. 



233 



A.1VTENDMENTS TO THE CONSTITUTION. 

The first ten of tliese Amendments were 
proposed to the legislatures of the several 
States bj the first Congress, which assembled 
at New York, in March, seventeen himdred 
and eighty-nine; the eleventh article was 
proposed at the second session of the third 
Congress ; the twelfth article at the first ses- 
sion of the eighth Congress ; and the thir- 
teenth in eighteen hundred and sixty-five. 
Having been ratified according to the pro- 
visions of the fifth article of the Constitu- 
tion, these Amendments form an integral 
portion of that great charter of American 
liberty and law. 

AETICLE I. 

Congress shall make no law respecting 
an establishment of religion, or prohibiting 
the free exercise thereof; or abridging the 
freedom of speech, or of the press; or the 
right of the people peaceably to assemble, 
and to petition the government for a redress 
of grievances. 

ARTICLE n. 

A well-regulated militia being necessary 
to the security of a free State, the right of 
the people to keep and bear arms shall not 
be infringed. 

AETICLE in. 
No soldier shall, in time of peace, be quar- 
tered in any house without the consent of 
the owner; nor in time of war, but in a 
manner to be prescribed by law. 

AETICLE IV. 

The right of the people to be secure in 
their persons, houses, papers, and effects, 
against unreasonable searches and seizures, 
shall not be violated ; and no warrants shall 
issue, but upon probable cause, supported by 
oath or affirmation, and particularly describ- 
ing the places to be searched, and the per- 
sons or things to be seized. 

AETICLE V. 

No person shall be held to answer for a 



capital or otherwise infamous crime, unless 
on a presentment or indictment of a grand 
jury, except in cases arising in the land or 
naval forces, or in the militia, when in actual 
service, in time of war or public danger; 
nor shall any person be subject for the same 
offence to be twice put in jeopai-dy of life 
or limb ; nor shall be compelled, in any 
criminal case, to be a witness against himself; 
nor be deprived of life, liberty, or property, 
without due process of law ; nor shall pri- 
vate property be taken for public use with- 
out just compensation. 

ARTICLE VI. 

In all criminal prosecutions, the accused 
shall enjoy the right to a speedy and public 
trial, by an impartial jury of the state and 
district wherein the crime shall have been 
committed, wliich district shall have been 
previously ascertained by law, and to be in- 
formed of the nature and cause of the accu- 
sation ; to be confronted with the witnesses 
against him ; to have compulsory process for 
obtaining witnesses in his favor ; and to 
have the assistance of counsel for his defence. 

ARTICLE vn. 
In suits at common law, where the value 
in controversy shall exceed twenty dollars, 
the right of trial by jury shall be preserved ; 
and no fact tried by a jury shall be other- 
wise re-examined in any court of the United 
States, than according to the rules of the 
common law. 

ARTICLE vm. 
Excessive bail shall not be required, nor 
excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual 
punishments inflicted. 

AETICLE rs. 
The enumeration in the Constitution of 
certain rights shall not be construed to deny 
or dispai'age others retained by the people. 

ARTICLE X. 

The powei-s not delegated to the United 



2U 



AiEENDMENTS TO THE CONSTITUTION. 



States by the Constitution, nor proliibited bv 
it to till' States, are reserved to tiic States 
respectively, or to the people. 

AETICLE XL 

The judicial ])o\ver of the United States 
shall not be construed to extend to any suit 
in law or equity, comnieneod or prosecuted 
against one of the United Sfcites by citizens 
of another State, or by citizens or subjects 
of any foreign State. 

AKTiCLE xn. 
The electors shall meet in their respective 
States, and vote by ballot fur president and 
vice-president, one of whom, at least, shall 
not be an iidiahitant of the same State with 
themselves ; they shall name in their ballots 
the person voted for as president, and in dis- 
tinct ballots the person voted for as vice- 
president ; and they shall make distinct lists 
of all persons voted for as president, and of 
all persons voted for as vice-president, and 
of the number of votes for each, which lists 
they shall sign and certity, and transmit, 
sealed, to the seat of the government of the 
United States, directed to the president of 
the senate ; the president of the senate shall, 
in the presence of the senate and house of 
representatives, open all the certilicates, and 
the votes shall then be counted ; the person 
bavins the createst number of votes for 
president, shall be the president, if such 
number shall be a majority of the whole 
number of electors appointed ; and if no 
pei-son have such majority', then, from the 
persons having the highest numbers, not 
exceeding three, on the list of those voted 
for as president, the house of representatives 
shall choose immediately, by ballot, the pres- 
ident. But in choosing the president, the 
votes shall be taken by States, the represen- 
tation from each State having one vote ; a 
quorum for this purpose shall consist of a 
member or members from two-thirds of the 
Stites, and a majority of all the States shall 
oe nocesjjary to a choice. And if the house 



of representatives shall not choose a presi- 
dent, whenever the rigiit of choice shall 
devolve upon them, before the fourth day of 
March next following, then the vice-president 
shall act as president, as in the case of the 
death or other constitutional disjibility of 
the president. 

The i)erson having the greatest nund)er 
of votes as vice-jiresident shall be the vice- 
president, if such number be a majority of 
the whole number of electors aj)pointcd ; 
and if no pereon have a majority, then, from 
the two highest numbers on the list, the 
senate shall choose the vice-president ; a 
quorum for the purpose shall consist of two- 
thirds of the whole nmnber of senators, and 
a majority of the whole number shall be 
necessary to a choice. 

But no person constitutionally ineligible 
to the office of president, shall be eligible to 
that of vice-president of the United States. 

ARTICLE xm. 
Adopted January Slsf, 1^65. 

Section 1. — Neither slavery nor involun- 
tary servitude, excejit as a punishment for 
crime, whereof the party shall have been 
duly convicted, shall exist within the United 
States, or any place subject to their jurisdic- 
tion. 

Sec. 2. — Congress shall have power to en- 
force this article by appropriate legislation. 

ARTICLE XIV. 

Fully adopted July 2St/i, 1868. 

Si'XmoN 1. — All persons born or natural- 
ized in the United States, and subject to the 
jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the Uni- 
ted States, and of the State wherein they 
reside. Xo State shall make or enforce any 
law which shall abridge the privileges or 
immunities of citizens of the United States; 
nor shall any State deprive any person of 
life, liberty, or property, without due process 
of law, nor deny to any person within its 
jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws. 



AMENDMENTS TO THE CONSTITUTION. 



235 



Section 2. — Representatives sliall be aj)- 
portioned aiiioncr the several States according 
to their respective numbers, counting the 
whole number of persons in each State, ex- 
cluding Indians not taxed. But, when the 
right to vote at any election for the choice 
of electors for President and Vice-President 
of the UTiited States, Tiepresentatives in 
Conorress, the Executive and Judicial Officers 
of a State, or the members of the Legislature 
thereof, is denied to any of the male inhab- 
itants of such State, being twenty-one years 
of age, and citizens of the United States, or 
in any way abridged, except for participation 
in rebellion, or other crime, the basis of 
representation therein shall be reduced in 
the proportion which the number of such 
male citizens shall bear to the whole number 
of male citizens twenty-one years of age in 
such State. 

Section 3. — No person shall be a Senator 
or Representative in Congress, or elector of 
President and Vice-President, or hold any 
office, civil or military, under the United 
States, or under any State, who, having pre- 
viously taken an oath, as a member of Con- 
gress, or as an officer of the United States, 
or as a member of any State Legislature, or 
as an Executive or Judicial Officer of any 
State, to support the Constitution of the 
United States, shall have engaged in insur- 



rection or rebellion against the same, or 
given aid or comfort to the enemies thereof. 
But Congress may, by a vote of two-thirds 
of each House, remove such disability. 

SEarioN 4. — The validity of the public 
debt of the United States, authorized by 
law, including debts incurred for the pay- 
ment of pensions and bounties, for services 
in suppressing insurrection or rebellion, shall 
not be questioned. But neither the United 
States, nor any State, shall assume or pay 
any debt or obligation incurred in aid of 
insurrection or rebe]]i<jn against the United 
States, or any claim for the loss or emanci- 
pation of any slave ; but all such debts, obli- 
gations and claims shall be held illegal and 
void. 

Section 5. — The Congress shall have pow- 
er to enforce, by appropriate legislation, the 
provisions of this article. 

AKTICLE XV. 

Fully adopted March 30th, 1870. 

Section 1. — The right of citizens of the 
United States to vote shall not be denied or 
abridged by the United States, or by any 
State, on account of race, color, or previous 
condition of servitude. 

Sectiox 2. — The Congress shall have pow- 
er to enforce this article by appropriate leg- 
islation. 



WASniNGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 



Wasuixgton" iu 1790 expressed bis fixed determination not to continue at 
the Lead of atVairs any longer; yet, in tU' unsettled position of matters with 
France, he was urgently entreated to withhold the announcement of his deter- 
mination for a time at least. But his purpose was not to be changed. He 
bad already sacrificed euougb for bis country to be entitled to bis discharge 
from public life, and never did a weary and careworn pilgrim more earnestly • 
covet rest and retirement, than he, to whom his country was so large a debtor. 
In accordance with evt-ry })iopriety therefore, AVashington determined to avail 
himself of the opportunity to adilress to bis countrymen bis parting words 
of wise and fatherly counsel. Accordingly, early in September, nearly six 
months before his term of office expired, he com]>leted his Fjirewell Address, 
and gave expression to the views which he entertained on public aflaii-s, and 
the principles by which he bad ever been governed in the service of the state. 
This noble and manly document, the invaluable legacy of the father of his 
country to the people whom he loved, and for whom he labored all his life 
long, is too important not to be held up continually before the eyes of the 
countrymen of Washington, and the inheritoi"s of the manifold blessings of 
liberty and law, which Washington expended bis best energies to secure to all 

generations. 

I a strict regard to all the considerations 



"to the people of the united states. 

" Friends and Fellow Citizens : — 
The period for a new election of a cit- 
izen to administer the executive gov- 
ernment of the United States being 
not far distant, and the time actually 
arrived when your thoughts must be 
employed in desiifnatins: the 
person who is to be clothed 
■witb that important trust, it appears to 
me proper, especially as it may con- 
duce to a more distinct exj^ression of 
the public voice, that I sho'ild now ap- 
prise you of the resolution I have form- 
ed, to decline being consideied among 
the number of those out of whom the 
choice is to be made. 

" I beg you at the same time to do 
me the justice to be assured, that this 
resolution has not been taken without 



ajipertaiuing to the relation which binds 
a dutiful citizen to bis country; and 
that in withdrawing the tender of ser- 
vice, which silence in my situation might 
imply, I am influenced by no diminution 
of zeal for your future interest ; no defi- 
ciency of grateful respect for your past 
kindness; but am supported by a full 
conviction, that the step is compatible 
with both. 

"The acceptance of, and continuance 
hitherto in, the office to which 
your suffrages have twice called 
me have been an uniform sacrifice of 
inclination to the opinion of duty, and 
to a deference for what appeared to be 
your desii-e. I constantly hoped that 
it would have been much earlier in my 
power, consistently witb motives which 
I was not at liberty to disregard, to 



WASHINGTON'S FAltEWELL ADDRESS. 



2:57 



return to that retirement from which 
I had heen reluctantly drawn. The 
strength of my inclination to do this, 
previous to the last election, had even 
led to the preparation of an address to 
declai'e it to you ; hut mature reflection 
on the then perple.xed and critical pos- 
ture of our affairs with foreign nations, 
and the unanimous advice of pei-sons 
entitled to my confidence, impelled me 
to abandon the idea. 

" I rejoice that the state of your con- 
cerns, external as well as intei'nal, no 
longer renders the pursuit of inclinar 
tion incompatible with the sentiment of 
duty or propriety ; and am persuaded, 
whatever partiality may be retained for 
my services, that in the present circum- 
stances of our couatiy, you will not dis- 
approve of my determination to retire. 

"The impressions with which I first 
undertook the arduous trust, were ex- 
plained on the projier occasion. In the 
discharge of this trust I will only say, 
that I have, with good intentions, con- 
tributed toward the organization and 
administration of the government the 
best exertions of which a very fallible 
judgment was capalile. Not uncon- 
scious, in the outset, of the infcrioi-ity 
of my qualifications, exp)fcrience in my 
own eyes, perhaps stUl more in the 
eyes of others, has strengthened the 
motives to difiSdence of myself; and 
. every day the increasing weight of 
years admonishes me more and more, 
that the shade of retirement is as ne- 
cessaiy to me as it will be welcome. 
Satisfied that if any circumstances have 
given peculiar value to my services, 
they were temporaiy, I have the con- 
solation to believe, that -nhile choice 



and p»rudence invite me to quit the po- 
litical scene, patriotism does not for- 
bi<l it. 

" In looking forward to the moment 
which is to terminate the career of my 
political life, my feelings do not pei-iiiit 
me to suspend the deep acknowledge- 
ment of that debt of gratitude which I 
owe to my beloved country, for the 
many honours it has conferred upon 
me; still more for the steailfast confi- 
dence with which it has supported me ; 
and for the opportunities I have thence 
enjoyed of manifesting my inviulable 
attachment, by sei-vices faithful and 
persevering, though in asefulness un- 
equal to my zeal. If benefits have 
resulted to our countiy from these ser- 
vices, let it always he remembei'ed to 
your praise, and as an insti-uctive ex- 
ample in our annals, that, under cir- 
cumstances in which the passioas, agi- 
tated in every direction, were liable to 
mislea<l — amidst appearances soraetimea 
dubious — vicissitudes of fortune 
often discouraging — in situa- 
tions in which not unfrequently want 
of success has countenanced the sjnrit 
of criticism — the constancy of your sup- 
port was the essential prop of the efforts, 
and a guarantee of the plans, by which 
they were effected. Profoundly pene- 
trated with this idea, I shall carry it 
with me to my grave, as a strong in- 
citement to unceasing wishes, that hea- 
ven may continue to you the choicest 
tokens of its beneficence — that your 
union and brotherly affection may be 
perpetual — that the free Constitution, 
which is the work of your hands, may 
be sacredly maintained — that its ad- 
ministration in every department may 



238 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 



1796. 



be stamped with wisdom and virtue — 
that, in fine, the happiness of the people 
of these states, under the auspices of 
liberty, may be made complete, by so 
careful a jireservation and so prudent 
a use of this blessing, as will acquire to 
them the glory of recommending it to 
the applause, the atlectioa, and the 
adoj^tion, of every nation which is yet 
a stranger to it. 

"Here, perhaps, I ought to stop. 
But a solicitude for your welfare, 
which cannot end but with my life, 
and the apprehension of danger natu- 
ral to that solicitude, urge me, on an 
occasion like the present, to oflfer to 
your solenm contemplation, and 
to recommend to your frequent 
review, some scntuuents, which are the 
result of much reflection, of no incon- 
siderable observation, and which appear 
to me all-important to the permanency 
of your felicity as a people. These will 
be offered to you with the more free- 
dom, as you can only see in them the 
disinterested warnings of a parting 
friend, who can possibly have no per- 
sonal motive to bias his couuseh Nor 
can I forget, as an encouragement to it, 
your indulgent reception of my senti- 
ments on a former and not dissimilar 
occasion. 

" Interwoven as is the love of liberty 
with every ligament of your hearts, no 
recommendation of mine is necessary 
to fortify or confinn the attachment. 

"The miity of government, which 
constitutes you one people, is also now 
dear to you. It is justly so ; for it is a 
main ])illar in the edifice of your real 
independence; the support of your tran- 
quillity at home, your peace abroad ; of 



your safety, of your prosperity, of that • 
very liberty which you so highly ]>rize. 
But as it is easy to foresee, that from 
different causes and from different quar- 
tei-s, much pains will be taken, many 
artifices em{)loyed, to weaken in your 
minds the conviction of this truth ; as 
this is the point in your political for- 
tress against which the batteries of 
internal and external enemies will be 
most constantly and actively, (though 
often covertly and insidiously,) direct- 
ed, it is of infinite moment, that you 
should properly estimate the immense 
value of your national union, to your 
collective and individual happiness ; 
that you should cherish a cordial, ha- 
bitual, and immovable attachment to 
it ; accustoming youreelves to think and 
speak of it as of the palladium of your 
political safety and prosperity; watch- 
ing for its preservation M-ith jealous 
anxiety ; discountenancing whatever 
may suggest even a suspicion that it 
can in any event be abandoned; and 
indignantly frowning upon the fii-st 
dawning of every attempt to alienate 
any portion of our country from the 
rest, or to enfeeble the sacred ties 
which now link tofjether the various 
parts. 

" For this you have every inducement 
of sjTiipathy and interest. Citizens, by 
birth or choice, of a common countiy, 
that countrj- has a right to concentrate 
your affections. The name of Ameri- 
can, which belongs to you in your 
national capacity, must always exalt 
the just pride of patriotism, more than 
any appellation derived from loeal dis- 
criminations. With slight shades of 
difference, you have the same religion, 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 



239 



1796. 



manners, habits, and political princi- 
ples. You have in a common cause 
fought and triumphed together; the 
independence and liberty you possess, 
are the work of joint councils, and 
joint efforts, of common dangers, suf- 
ferings, and successes. 

"But these considerations, however 
powerfully they addi'ess themselves to 
your sensibility, are greatly outweighed 
by those which apply more immediately 
to your interest. Here every 
portion of our countiy finds the 
most commanding motives for carefully 
guarding and preserving the union of 
the whole. 

" The north, in an unrestrained inter- 
course with the south, protected by the 
equal laws of a common government, 
finds in the productions of the latter, 
great additional resources of maritime 
and commercial enterprise, and precious 
materials of manufactui'ing industry. 
The south, in the same intercourse, ben- 
efiting by the agency of the north, 
sees its agriculture grow and its com- 
merce expand. Turning partly into its 
own channels the seamen of the north, 
it finds its particular navigation invigo- 
rated—and while it contributes, in dif- 
ferent ways, to nourish and increase 
the general mass of the national navigar 
tion, it looks forward to the protection 
of a maritime strength, to which itself 
is unequally adapted. The ea-^t, in lilce 
intercourse with the west, already finds, 
and in the progressive improvement of 
interior communications by land and 
water, will more and more find a valu- 
able vent for the commodities which it 
brings from abroad, or manufactures at 
home. The west derives from the east 



supplies requisite to its growth and 
comfort ; and, what Ls perhaps ot still 
greater consequence, it must of neces- 
sity owe the secure enjoyment of indis- 
pensable outlets for its own productions, 
to the weight, influence, and the future 
maritime strength of the Atlantic side 
of the Union, directed by an indissoluble 
community of interest as one nation. 
Any other tenure by which the we-st 
can hold this essential advantage, 
whether derived from its own separate 
strength, or from an apostate and un- 
natural connection with any foreign 
power, must be intrinsecally precaiious. 
"While, then, every part of our 
country thus feels an immediate and 
particular interest in union, all the 
parts combined cannot fail to find in 
the united mass of means and eftbrts, 
greater strength, greater resource, pro- 
portionably greater security from ex- 
ternal danger, a less frequent interrup- 
tion of their peace by foreign nations ; 
and, what is of inestimable value, they 
must derive fi'om union an exemption 
from those broils and wars between 
themselves which so frequently afflict 
neighboring countiies, not tied together 
by the same government ; which their 
own rivalships alone would be sufficient 
to produce, but which opposite foreign 
alliances, attachments, and intrigues, 
would stimulate and embitter. Hence 
likewise they will avoid the necessity 
of those overgi'own military establish- 
ments, which, under any form of gov- 
ernment, are inauspicious to liberty, 
and which are to be regarded as par- 
ticularly hostile to republican liberty. 
In this sense it is, that your union 
ought to be considered as a main pri)p 



240 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 



179<». 



of your liberty, and that the love of 
the one ought to endear to you the 
preservation of the other. 

"These considerations speak a per- 
suasive lancfuage to every roflocting 
and virtuous mind, and e.\liil)it the 
continuance of the Union as a primaiy 
object of patriotic desu-e. Is there a 
doul)t whether a common government 
can em])race so large a sphere? Let 
experience solve it. To listen to mere 
speculation in such a case were criminal. 
AVe are authorized to hope that 
a projier organization of the 
whole, with the auxiliary agency of 
governments for the respective subdi- 
visions, will afford a happy issue to the 
experiment. It is well worth a fair 
and full experiment. With such power- 
ful and obvious motives to union, affect- 
big all pai-ts of our country, while 
experience shall not have demonstrated 
its impracticability, there will always 
be reason to distrust the patriotism of 
those who, in any quarter, may endea- 
vor to weaken its bands. 

"In contemplating the causes which 
may disturb our union, it occurs as 
matter of serious concern, that any 
ground should have been furnished for 
characterizing parties by geograj)hical 
discriminations — northern and southern 
— Atlantic and western: whence de- 
signing men may endeavor to excite a 
belief that there is a real difference of 
local interests and views. One of the 
expedients of party to acquire influence, 
within particular districts, is to mis- 
represent the opinions and aims of 
other districts. You cannot shield 
yonrselve^ too much against the jeal- 
tmeies and heart-buniings which spring 



from these misrepresentations ; thej' 
tend to rendei- alien to each othi-r, 
those who ought to be bound together 
by fraternal affection. The inhal»itants 
of our westei-n country have lately had 
a useful lesson on this head. Tlicy 
have seen, in the negotiation by the 
executive, and in the unanimous ratifi- 
cation by the Senate, of the treaty with 
Spain, and in the univei-sal satisfaction 
at that event throughout the United 
States, a decisive proof how unfounded 
were the susj)icions propagated among 
them of a policy in the general govern- 
ment, and in the Atlantic states, im- 
frieudly to their interests in regard to 
the Mississipjn. They have been wit^ 
nesses to the formation of two ti-eaties, 
that with Great Biitain, and that with 
Spain, which secure to them eveiy/ 
thing they could desii-e, in respect to 
our foreign relations, towards confirm- 
ing their prosperity. "Will it not be 
their wisdom to rely for the preservar 
tion of these advantages on the Union 
by which they were procured ? Will 
they not henceforth be deaf to those 
advisers, if such there are, who would 
sever them from their brethren, and 
connect them with aliens ? 

" To the efiicacy and permanency of 
your union, a government for the whole 
is indispensable. No alliances, however 
strict, between the parts can be an 
adequate substitute ; they must inevi- 
tably experience the infractions and 
intermptions which all alliances in all 
times have experienced. Sensible of 
this momentous truth, you have im- 
proved upon your fii-st essay, by the 
adoption of a constitution of govern- 
ment, better calculated than your for- 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 



241 



170G. 



raer, for an intimate union, and for the 
efficacious management of your common 
concerns. This government, the off- 
spring of our own choice, unin- 
fluenced and unawed ; adopted 
upon full investigation and mature 
deli})eratiou ; completely free in its 
princijjles; in the distribution of its 
powers uniting security with energy, 
and containing within itself a provision 
for its own amendments, has a just 
claim to your confidence and your sup- 
port. Respect for its authority, com- 
pliance with its laws, acquiescence in 
its measures, are duties enjoined by the 
fundamental maxims of true liberty. 
The basis of our political systems is the 
right of the people to make and to alter 
their constitutions of government. But 
the constitution which at any time ex- 
ists, until changed by an explicit and 
authentic act of the whole people, is 
sacredly obligatory upon all. The veiy 
idea of the power and the right of the 
people to establish a government, pre- 
supposes the duty of every individual 
to obey the established government. 

"All obstructions to the execution 
of the laws, all combinations and asso- 
ciations, under whatever plausible char- 
acter, with the real design to direct, 
control, counteract, or awe the regular 
deliberations and action of the consti- 
tuted authorities, are destructive of 
this fundamental principle, and of fiital 
tendency. They serve to organize fac- 
tion ; to give it an artificial and extrar 
ordinary force ; to put in the place of 
the delegated will of the nation, the 
will of a party, often a small, but artful 
and enterprising minority of the com- 
munity; and according to the alter- 



nate triumphs of different parties, to 
make the public administration the 
mirror of the Ul-concorted and incon- 
gruous projects of faction, rather than 
the organ of consistent and wholesome 
plans, digested by common councils, 
and modified by mutual interests. 

" However combinations or associa- 
tions of the above description may now 
and then aaswer popular ends, they 
are likely, in the coui-se of time and 
things, to become potent engines, by 
which cunning, ambitious, and unprin- 
cipled men, will be enabled to suVjvert 
the power of the people, and to usui'jt 
for themselves the reins of govern- 
ment; destroying afterwards the very 
engines which have lifted them to un- 
jast dominion. 

" Towards the preservation of your 
government, and the permanency of 
your present happy state, it is requisite 
not only that you steadily discounte- 
nance irregular oppositions to its ac- 
knowledged authority, but also that 
you resist with cai-e the spirit of inno- 
vation upon its principles, however spe- 
cious the pretexts. One method of as- 
sault may be to effect in the fonns of 
the Constitution altei'ations which will 
impair the energy of the system, and 
thus to undermine what cannot be di- 
rectly overthrown. In all the changes 
to which you may be in\ated, remem- 
ber that time and habit are at least jis 
necessary to fix the true characters of 
governments, as of other human insti- 
tutions — that experience is the surest 
standard, by which to test the real ten- 
dency of the existing constitution of a 
country — that facUity in changes upon 
the credit of mere hypothesis and opin- 



242 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 



ion, exposes to perpetual change from 
the endless variety of hypothesis and 
opinion ; and remember, espe- 
cially, that for the efficient 
management of your common interests, 
in a country so extensive as oui"s, a 
government of as much vigor as is con- 
sistent with the perfect security of lib- 
erty, is indispensable. Liberty itself 
will find in such a government, with 
powei-s properly distributed and ad- 
justed, its surest guardian. It is, in- 
deed, little else than a name, where the 
government is too feeble to withstand 
the enterprises of faction, to confine 
each member of the society within the 
limits prescribed by the laws, and to 
maintain all in the secure and tranquil 
enjoyment of the rights of person and 
property. 

" I have already intimated to you 
Ihe danger of parties in the state, with 
particular reference to the founding 
of them on geographical dLscriminji- 
tions. Let me now take a more com- 
prehensive view, and warn you in the 
most solemn manner against the bane- 
ful eftects of the spirit of party gener- 
ally. 

" This spirit, unfortunately, is insep- 
ai-able from our nature, having its root 
in the strongest pa.ssions of the human 
mind. It exists under difterent shapes 
in all governments, more or less stifled, 
controlled, or repressed; but in those 
of the popular form, it is seen in its 
greatest raukness, and is truly their 
worst enemy. 

"The alternate domination of one 
faction over another, sharpened by the 
B]iirit of revenge natural to party dis- 
sension, which in different ages and 



countries has j)erpetrated the most 
horrid enoi'niities, is itself a fiightful 
des])otisni. But this leads at length to 
a more formal and permanent des])otr 
ism. The disordei-s and miseries which 
result, gradually incline the minds of 
men to seek security and repose in the 
absolute power of an individual ; and 
sooner or later the chief of some pre- 
vailing faction, more able or more for- 
tunate than his competitore, turns this 
disposition to the purposes of his own 
elevation on the ruins of public liberty. 

" Without looking forward to an ex- 
tremity of this kind, (which neverthe- 
less ought not to be entirely out of 
sight,) the common and continual mis- 
chiefs of the sjiirit of party are suiB- 
cient to make it the interest and duty 
of a wise people to discourage and re- 
strain it. 

"It serves always to distract the 
public councils, and enfeeble the pul> 
lie administration. It agitates the com- 
munity with ill-founded jealousies and 
false alarms ; kindles the animosity of 
one part against another; foments occa- 
sional riot and insurrection. It opens 
the door to foreign influence and cor- 
ruption, which find a facilitated access 
to the government itself, through the 
channel of party passions. Thus the 
policy and the will of one country are 
subjected to the policy and will of an- 
other. 

"There is an opinion that parties in 
free countries are useful checks upon 
the administration of the government, 
and serve to keep alive the spirit of 
liberty. This, within ceiiain limits, is 
proba])ly true ; and in governments of 
a monarchical cast, patiiotism may look 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 



2 43 



with indulgence, if not -n'itli favor, upon 
tlie spirit of party. But in those of 
the popular character, in governments 
purely elective, it is a spirit not to be 
encouraged. From then- natural tend- 
ency, it is certain there will always be 
enough of that spirit for every salutary 
purpose; and there being constant 
danger of excess, the effort ought to 
be, by force of public opinion, to miti- 
gate and assuage it. A fire not to be 
quenched, it demands a uniform vigi- 
lance to prevent its bursting into a 
flame, lest, instead of warming, it should 
consume. 

"It is important, likewise, that the 
habits of thinking in a free country 
should inspire caution, in those intrusted 
with its administration, to con- 
fine themselves within their re- 
spective constitutional spheres, avoid- 
ing in the exercise of the powers of 
one department to encroach upon an- 
other. The spirit of encroachment 
tends to consolidate the powers of all 
the departments in one, and thus to 
create, whatever the form of govern- 
ment, a real despotism. A just esti- 
mate of that love of power, and prone- 
ness to abuse it, which predominate in 
the human heart, is sufficient to satisfy 
us of the truth of this position. The 
necessity of reciprocal checks in the ex- 
ercise of political power, by di^ading 
and distributing it into different depos- 
itories, and constituting each the guar- 
dian of the public weal against inva- 
sions of the others, has been evinced 
by experiments ancient and modern ; 
some of them in our countrj^ and under 
our own eyes. To preserve them must 
bo as necessary' as to institute them. 



If, in the opinion of the people, the dis- 
tribution or modification of the consti- 
tutional powei-s be in any particular 
wrong, let it be corrected by au amend- 
ment in the way which the Constitu- 
tion designates. But let there be no 
change by usui-pation ; for though this, 
in one instance, may be the instrument 
of good, it is the customary weapon by 
which free governments are destroyed. 
The precedent must always greatly 
overbalance, in permanent evil, any par- 
tial or transient benefit which the use 
can at any time yield. 

" Of all the dispositions and habits 
which lead to political prosperity, re- 
ligion and morality are indispensable 
supports. In vain would that man 
claim the tribute of patriotism, who 
should labor to subvert these great pil- 
lars of human happiness — these firmest 
props of the duties of men and citizens. 
The mere politician, equally with the 
pious man, ought to respect and to 
cherish them. A volume could not 
trace all their connections with private 
and public felicity. Let it shuply be 
asked, where is the security for prop- 
erty, for reputation, for life, if the sense 
of religious obligation desert the oaths 
which are the instruments of investiga- 
tion iu courts of justice ? And let us with 
caution indulge the supposition that 
morality can be maintained without re- 
ligion. Whatever may be conceded 
to the influence of refined education 
on minds of peculiar structure, reason 
and experience both forbid us to ex- 
pect that national morality can prevail 
in exclusion of religious principles. 

" It is substantially true, that virtue 
or morality is a necessary spring of 



244 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 



popular governruent. This rule in- 
deed extends with more or los-s force 
to every species of free government. 
Who that is a sincere friend to it can 
look with indiftiTonco upon attfuipts 
to shake the foundation of the fa])ric ? 

"Promote, then, as an object of pri- 
mary importance, institutions for the 
general diffusion of knowledge. In 
proportion as the structure of a gov- 
ernment gives force to public opinion, 
it is essential that public opinion should 
be enhfjhtened. 

" As a very important source of 
strength and security, cherish public 
credit. One method of preserving it 
is to use it as sparingly as possible, 
avoiding occasions of expense by culti- 
vating peace ; but remembering also, 
that timely disbursements to prepare 
for danger, frequently prevent much 
greater disbursements to repel it ; avoid- 
ing likewise the accumulation of debt, 
not only by shunning occasions of ex- 
pense, but by vigorous exertions in 
time of peace to discharge the debts 
which unavoidable wars may have oc- 
casioned, not ungenerously throwing 
upon posterity the burden which we 
ourselves ought to bear. The execu- 
tion of these maxims belongs to your 
representatives; but it is necessary that 
public opinion should co-operate. To 
facilitate to them the performance of 
their duty, it is essential that you 
should practically bear in mind, that 
towards the payment of debts there 
must be revenue ; that to have revenue 
there must be taxes ; that no taxes can 
be devised which are not more or less 
inconvenient and unpleasant ; that the 
intrinsic embarrassment inseparable 



1796. 



from the selection of the jiroper olv 
jects, (which is always a choice of dif- 
ficulties,) ought to 1)6 a decisive motive 
for a candid construction of the con- 
duct of the government in making it, 
and for a spirit of ac(|uiosccncc 
in the measures for obtaining 
revenue, which the public exigencies 
may at any time dictate. 

"Observe good faith and justice to- 
wards all nations ; cultivate peace and 
harmony with all. Religion and moral- 
ity enjoin this conduct ; and can it be 
that good policy does not equally en- 
join it? It will be worthy of a free, 
enlightened, and, at no distant period, 
a great nation, to give to mankind the 
magnanimous and too novel example 
of a people always guided by an ex- 
alted justice and benevolence. Who 
can doubt, that, in the course of time 
and things, tlie fruits of such a plan 
would richly repay any temporary 
advantages which might be lost by a 
steady adherence to it? Can it be, that 
Providence has not connected the ]ier- 
manent felicity of a nation with its vir- 
tue ? The experiment, at least, is re- 
commended by every sentiment which 
ennobles human nature. Alas ! it is 
rendered impossible by its vices. 

" In the execution of such a plan, 
nothing is more essential than that per^ 
mauent inveterate antipathies against 
particular nations, and ])assionate at- 
tachments for others, should be ex- 
cluded; and that in place of them, 
just and amicable feelings towards 
all should be cultivated. The nation 
which indulges towards another an 
habitual hatred, or an habitual fond- 
ness, is in some degree a slave. It is a 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS, 



245 



1796. 



slave to its animosity or to its affection, 
either of which Ls sufficient to lead 
it astray from its duty and its 
interest. Antipathy in one na- 
tion against another disposes each more 
readily to offer insult and injury, to lay 
hold of slight causes of umbrage, and 
to be haughty and intractable when 
accidental or trifling occasions of dis- 
pute occur. 

"Hence frequent collisions, obsti- 
nate, envenomed, and bloody contests. 
The nation, prompted by ill-will and 
resentment, sometimes impels to war 
the government, contrary to the best 
calculations of policy. The govern- 
ment sometimes participates in the na- 
tional propensity, and adopts through 
passion, what reason would reject ; at 
other times it makes the animosity of 
the nation subservient to projects of 
hostility instigated by pride, ambition, 
and other sinister and pernicious mo- 
tives. The peace often, sometimes per- 
haps the liberty, of nations has been 
the victim. 

"So, likewise, a passionate attach- 
ment of one nation for another, pro- 
duces a variety of evils. Sympathy 
for the favorite nation, facilitating the 
illusion of an imaginary common inter- 
est in cases where no real common in- 
terest exists, and infusing into one the 
enmities of the other, betrays the for- 
mer into a participation in the quan-els 
and wars of the latter, without adequate 
inducements or justification. It leads 
also to concessions to the favorite na- 
tion of privileges denied to others, 
which are apt doubly to injure the na- 
tion making the concessions, by unne- 
cessarily parting with what ought to 



have been retained; and by exciting 
jealousy, ill-will, and a disposition to 
retaliate, in the parties from whom 
equal privileges are withheld; and it 
gives to ambitioas, corrupted, or de- 
luded citizens, (who devote themselves 
to the favorite nation,) facility to be- 
tray or sacrifice the interests of their 
own country, without odium, some- 
times even with popularity; gilding 
with the appearances of a virtuous 
sense of obligation to a commendaljle 
deference for public opinion, or a laud- 
able zeal for pubUc good, the base or 
foolish compliances of ambition, cor- 
ruption, or infatuation. 

"As avenues to foreign influence in 
innumerable ways, such attachments are 
particularly alarming to the truly en- 
lightened and independent patriot. 
How many opportunities do they af- 
ford to tamper with domestic factions, 
to practise the arts of seduction, to 
mislead public opinion, to influence or 
awe the public councils ! Such an at- 
tachment of a small or weak, towards 
a great and powerful nation, dooms the 
former to be the satellite of the latter. 
Against the insidious wiles of foreign 
influence, (I conjure you to believe me, 
fellow-citizens,) the jealousy of a free 
people ought to be constantly awake ; 
since history and expenence prove, that 
foreign influence Is one of the most 
baneful foes of republican government. 
But that jealousy, to be useful, must 
be impartial ; else it becomes the in- 
strument of the very influence to be 
avoided, instead of a defence against 
it. Excessive partiality for one foreign 
nation, and excessive dislike of another, 
cause those whom they actu.ate to aeo 



216 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 



179«. 



danger only on one side, and serve to 
veil and even second the arts of in- 
fluence on the other. Real patriots, 
who may resist the intrigues of the fa- 
vorite, are liable to become suspected 
and odious ; while its tools and du])cs 
usurp the applause and confidence of 
the people, to surrender their inter- 
ests. 

"The great rule of conduct for us, 
in regard to foreign nations, is, in ex- 
tending our commercial rela- 
tions, to have with them as 
little political connection as possible. 
So far as we have already formed en- 
gagements, let them be fulfilled with 
perfect good faith. Here let us stop. 

"Europe has a set of primaiy in- 
terests, which to us have none, or a 
very remote, relation. Hence she must 
be engaged in frequent controvei-sies, 
the causes of which are essentially 
foreign to our concerns. Hence, there- 
fore, it must be unwise in us to impli- 
cate ourselves by artificial ties, in the 
ordinary %ncissitudes of her politics, or 
the ordinary combinations and collisions 
of her friendships or enmities. 

" Our detached and distant situation 
invites and enables us to pui-sue a dif- 
ferent course. If we remain one people, 
under an efficient government, the pe- 
riod is not far ofi^, when we may defy 
material injury from e.xternal annoy- 
ance ; when we may take such an atti- 
tude as will cause the neutrality we 
may at any time resolve upon, to be 
Bcrupulously respected ; when belliger- 
ent nations, under the impossibility of 
making acquisitions upon us, will not 
lightly hazard the giving us provoca- 
iion; when we may choose peace or 



war, as our interest, guided by justice, 
shall counsel. 

" Why forego the advantages of so 
peculiar a situation ? Why quit our 
own to stand upon foreign ground ? 
Why, by interweaving our destiny 
with that of any part of Europe, en- 
tangle our peace and prosperity in the 
toils of European ambition, rivalship, 
interest, humor, or caprice ? 

" It is our true policy to steer clear 
of permanent alliances with any por- 
tion of the foreign world ; so far. I 
mean, as we are now at libeiiy to do 
it; for let me not be undei-stood as 
capable of patronizing infidelity to ex- 
isting engagements. I hold the maxim 
no less applicable to public than to 
private aftaii-s, that honesty is always 
the best policy. I repeat it, therefore, 
let those engagements 1)e observed in 
their genuine sense. But in my opin- 
ion, it is unnecessary, and would be un- 
wise, to extend them. 

"Taking care always to keep our- 
selves, by suitable estal)lishments, on a 
respectable defensive posture, we may 
safely trust to temporary alliances for 
extraordinary emergencies. 

" Harmony, and a liberal intercourse 
with all nations, are recommended ])y 
policy, humanity, and interest. But 
even our commercial policy should 
hold an equal and impartial hand ; 
neither seeking nor granting exclusive 
favors or preferences; consulting the 
natural course of things ; diflHising 
and diversLlNTng l)y gentle means, the 
streams of commerce, ])ut forcmg noth- 
ing; establishing, with powers so dis- 
posed, — in order to give trade a stable 
coui"se, to define the rights of our mer- 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 



247 



chants, and to enable the government 
to support them, — conventional rules 
of intercourse, the best that present 
circumstances and mutual opinion will 
permit, but temporary, and liable to be 
from time to time abandoned or va- 
ried, as experience and circumstances 
Bhall dictate ; constantly keeping in 
view, that it is folly in one nation to 
look for disinterested fiivors from an- 
other ; that it must pay with a portion 
of its independence for whatever it 
may accept under that character ; that 
by such acceptance, it may place itself 
in the condition of having given equiv- 
alents for nominal favors, and yet of 
being reproached with ingratitude for 
not giving more. There can be no 
greater error than to expect or calcu- 
late upon real favors from nation to 
nation. It is an illusion which expe- 
rience must cure, which a just pride 
ought to discard. 

"In offering to you, my country- 
men, these counsels of an old and 
affectionate friend, I dare not 
hope they will make the strong 
and lasting impression I could wish ; 
that they will control the usual cur- 
rent of the passions, or prevent our 
nation from running the course which 
has hitherto marked the destiny of na- 
tions. But if I may even flatter my- 
self, that they may be productive of 
some partial benefit, some occasional 
good; that they may now and then 
recur to moderate the fury of party 
spirit; to warn against the mischiefs 
of foreign intrigue; to guard against 
the impostui'es of pretended patriot- 
ism; this hope will Vje a full recom- 
pense for the solicitude for your wel- 



fare, by which they have been dio- 
tated. 

"How far, in the discharge of ray 
official duties, I have been guided by 
the principles which have been delin- 
eated, the public records and other 
evidences of my conduct must witness 
to you and to the world. To myself, 
the assurance of my own conscience is, 
that I have at least believed myself to 
be guided by them. 

"In relation to the stiU subsisting 
war in Europe, my proclamation of 
the 22d of Aprd, 1793, is the index to 
my plan. Sanctioned by your approv- 
ing voice, and by that of your repre- 
sentatives in both houses of Congress, 
the spirit of that measure has continu- 
ally governed me ; uninfluenced by any 
attempts to deter or divert me from it. 

" After deliberate examination, with 
the aid of the best lights I could ob- 
tain, I was well satisfied that our coun- 
try, under all the circumstances of the 
case, had a right to take, and was bound 
in duty and interest to take, a neutral 
position. Having taken it, I determin- 
ed, as far as should depend upon me, to 
maintain it with moderation, persever- 
ance, and firmness. 

"The considerations which respect 
the right to hold this conduct, it is not 
necessary on this occasion to detail. I 
wUl only observe, that according to my 
understanding of the matter, that right, 
so far from being denied by any of the 
belligerent powers, has been virtually 
admitted by all. 

"The duty of holding a neutral con- 
duct may be inferred, without anything 
more, from the obligation wldch justice 
and humanity impose on every nation 



249 



WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 



in cases in which it is free to act, to 
inaintain in\iolato the relations of peace 
ami amity ti>\varils other nations. 

"The inducements of interest for 
observing that conduct will best be 
referred to yoiir own reflections and ex- 
perience. With nie, a predominant 
motive has been to endeavor to gain 
time to our country to settle and mature 
its yet recent institutions, and to pro- 
gress, without interruption, to that de- 
gree of strength and consistency, which 
is necessary to give it, humanly speak- 
ing, the command of its own fortunes. 

"Though in reviewing the incidents 
of my administration, I am unconscious 
of intentional error, I am nevertheless 
too sensible of my defects not to think 
it probable that I may have conmiitted 
many errors. Whatever they may be, 
1 fervently beseech the Almighty to 
avert or mitigate the evils to which 
they may tend. I shall also carry with 
me the hope that my country \^^ll never 



cease to view them with indulgence ; 
and after forty-five years of my life 
dedicated to its service, with an up- 
right zeal, the faults of incompetent 
abilities will be consigned to oblivion, 
as myself must soon be to the man- 
sions of rest. 

" Relying on its kindness in this as in 
other thing.s, and actuated by that fer- 
vent love towards it, which is so natural 
to a man who views in it the native soil 
of himself and his progenitors for several 
generations ; I anticipate with pleasing 
expectation that retreat, in which I 
promise myself to realize, without al- 
loy, the sweet enjoyment of partaking, 
in the midst of my fellow-citizens, the 
benign influence of good laws under a 
free government — the ever fovorite ob- 
ject of my heart, and the happy re- 
ward, as I trust, of our mutual cares, 
labors, and dangers. 
" United States, Sept. 17, 1708. 



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